


If Marinette was the Rogues' Princess Rewrite/extended

by crazyjc



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DC - Fandom, Gotham (TV), Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst, Bio!Dad AU, Edward Nygma - Freeform, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Harley Quinn - Freeform, Jason Todd is Red Hoodie, Jeremiah valeska - Freeform, Mad Hatter is an implied pedophile, Mad Hatter mentioned, MariBat, Marinette is a badass, Marinette is scary smart, Mr. Freeze - Freeform, Mr. J and Joker are not the same here, Multi, My OCs, OCs - Freeform, Original Characters - Freeform, Oswald Cobblepot - Freeform, Re-write-ish, Riddler - Freeform, Scarecrow - Freeform, Tim Drake has appeared in a minor role, also organized at last, and so small, editing is iffy, genius!Marinette, jerome valeska - Freeform, kryptonian!marinette, more will be added as i go, penguin - Freeform, third person, victor zsasz - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:14:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22627669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazyjc/pseuds/crazyjc
Summary: This story follow's Marinette's life as Hugo Strange's biological daughter, and also kryptonian thanks to a surgery to keep her alive as an infant. This follows her life growing up hiding being 'meta' in a France that despises metas, while she spends her summers in Gotham raised by the Rouges... and somehow befriending the batfam while falling into 'enemy' and 'threat' territory simultaneously. This is mostly a rewrite (to be in chronological order) but also adding content to show how different relationships formed and how this changed Marinette, the miraculous ladybug characters and various DC characters.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 192





	1. Handling that Papa is not Father

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: this is a more traditional fic version all the way through of If Marinette was the Rogues' Princess. both are slightly changed (Small details) in the beginning of the fic, with this one being Chronological 100%
> 
> both will be updated, just at different rates (depends on my motivation and what i want to do for chapters from the tumblr drafts)

Marinette was three when frowned as she tried to find the words to tell Papa what she knew. She knew she knew and it bugged her—was not telling lying? It felt like lying. And Maman and Papa said lying was bad. Hiding the truth from bad people trying to take away metas was fine—but lying to each other was wrong.

Papa was watching her. Could he hear her thoughts?

“I, you not Papa like Joe’s Papa.” That was the best she could do. She hoped the words made sense.

“Topolina,” Papa began, scooping her off the ground. “What do you mean?”

Marinette frowned. She didn’t have the words, she knew what it was but not how to say it. Maybe a personal example he might get? “You’re not my Papa like Nonno is your Papa.”

She hoped it worked.

She’d known for awhile—the customers and other kids said she didn’t look like him. At first she thought she just looked like Maman and had her strength from Papa, and he was really good at controlling it. But he isn’t like her—he doesn’t break door knobs to the point they need push doors for everything. She does. Her eyes are black and Maman and Papa’s are both light. She wasn’t the best at reading words in French yet—Italian was easier since everyone at home spoke it more freely. French was second. English was for Maman and Nonna to talk alone. The other one, Chinese, is when Maman wants to say things Marinette isn’t allowed to say or hear.

“You’re Papa but not… not Padre.”

Papa’s eyes widened. “I, how did you…”

Marinette pouted at that. Did they think she was dumb? “Eyes and the colors.”

Papa furrowed his brow. Marinette looked around, trying to find something to help him understand (why did no one understand her?) what she meant. She grabbed a piece of paper, her water colors and took the cup of water Papa left out for her paintings—he knew she didn’t like the feel of finger paints but loved working with the brushes. He even let her do the egg wash on the pastries now.

Carefully, Marinette made two charts showing Maman’s eye shape and Papa’s eye shape. Maman’s were smaller than Papa’s big eyes, and were on a diagonal base with a bigger slant. Papa’s were almost straight, and they both were really straight on the lower lid. She used the line of another paint brush’s handle to see the possible shapes, in four possible ways. Her eye shape was outside Maman and Papa’s though—hers had a bigger curve on the bottom lid than either of her parents, than was possible from them.

Marinette pointed to that. “See?”

Papa didn’t. his face was blank and his brow furrowed up.

Marinette frowned. “Two minutes.”

Her Papa didn’t argue, watching her paint. She made a light grey like Maman’s eyes, and a brown like Papa’s. she let the colors bleed into each other. Then she put a dark black like hers outside of it. “See? My color isn’t part of yours together.”

Papa paled. Did—was she not supposed to know? (They really did think she was stupid. Was talking that important?)

“I, how did you…”

Marinette tried to find the words that made sense to Papa. Pictures didn’t, not really. She looked at his outfit, for work…

“Under-baked and burnt when you did the steps right.”

Papa stared at her again.

“I’m underbaked and burnt, but the steps are right, so its something else. And I figured it out. I was trying to be the wrong recipe.”

Papa stared at her. Was he shocked she put it together so slowly?

“Can I meet my father?” He might help her find words better. Papa and Maman and Nonno tried, but she’s no good with their words. Its talking to stones a lot of the time.

“I, topolina…”

Papa was upset with her. She must have taken too long to bring it up… maybe she just didn’t fit in. the big kids give her funny looks and make weird sounds at her. She thinks they’re trying to make something like when Maman is mad and goes out of Italian and English, but she doesn’t get why, especially since those kids are really, really bad at it.

“Father might find my words.” She hopes he gets this. That she can’t get things right fro people. She’s bad at talking. She knows it, she’d good at puzzles, at recipes and brushes and (when Maman and Nonno let her) the practice sewing patterns in wood with the string and too dull needle. But she’s no good with words.

Maman walked in then. “Can I meet Father so I can find my words? Brick talk is hard.”

Maman walked over to her then, was, was she mad?

“Your Papa is right there.”

“But he’s not Father—eyes are wrong, see?” Marinette showed Maman the chart, colors and shapes, then pointed at her eyes after each. “I don’t fit. Maybe Father can help me fit.”

Maman stared at her then, looking at her daughter. The one with raven hair and inky eyes. The one who spoke in three languages in one sentence and didn’t notice. The one who took to drawing pictures and charts to ask questions and seemed to understand even when she didn’t talk back the way a parent would expect their kid to. Hers made soft humming sounds and painted her thoughts. Or made a needlework version if they gave her the time to.

“What do you mean you don’t fit?”

Marinette frowned. It was obvious. Eyes, strength, words. She didn’t know the right way to say that though, because saying it never made sense to Maman or Papa. She had to do so much to get them to get what she meant.

Marinette tapped her eyes first and then made the sounds the other kids did, her brows furrowed while Maman’s face got red. She didn’t get why though.

Next she flexed her hand and acted like she was opening a door, only for the door knob to get bad again. Maman took a deep breath.

Then Marinette pointed to her drawings. “My words don’t work. Those have to be words, and it doesn’t work right. So Father has my words, or knows how to find them.”

Maman froze at that.

“He has your words?”

Marinette nodded. “No words, brick talk.”

Maman tried to process the words her daughter said, mouthing them in a few languages until… “talking to a brick wall.” She looked like the timer went off when she was too focused on decorating to keep track of the time.

Marinette nodded, “brick talk.”

“Talking to us is like talking to a brick wall for you.” Maman said it slowly, like Marinette needed her to. It made the girl huff.

“Yes, brick talk.”

Maman rubbed her forehead. “I, I’ll call him later. He’s at work now.”

“Can I?”

Sabine pushed her hair away from her own face. “I should make the call.”

“He has my words.” Marinette stomped her foot as lightly as she could. She didn’t want the floor to move again.

Papa lifted her up after that. “Maman needs to talk and see if he wants to see you.”

Marinette frowned at that. “Word thief?”

Papa opened and shut his mouth.

“Maman, word thief?”

Maman blinked at the question. “No, just… not a people person. Or a good person.”

Marinette frowned. The only bad people she knew of were… “Meta?”

Sabine stared at her daughter then, trying to figure out that logic leap and how to undo it. Her daughter—she fought death and Cadmus for her—thought meta was the opposite of good.

“No, I… Give me a minute.”

Marinette frowned at Maman’s actions. Her words didn’t make sense. If meta wasn’t not good, then what was? The TV and kids said it like it was cold fire in their mouths. 

“Not good?”

“Very not good topolina.” Okay, meta were very not good. Maman was just pretending they weren’t.

* * *

Sabine used her burned to call a single number.

“Hugo, we need to talk, now.”

“Zhēn shi?”

“Its my daughter, she’s not making sense and for some reason, she wants to meet you. Something about talking to us being like talking to a brick wall and you having her words. I just, when you let her down, can you do it gently?”

There was a pause. “She wants to meet me?”

Sabine waited for that to sink in.

“She wants to meet me.”

A few beats later Hugo spoke. “She may come this summer, if you would allow her to. I am curious, if she thinks I have her words, she must be communicating in other ways. What are these?”

Sabine didn’t want to touch those thoughts. “Pictures and motions mostly, sometimes pointing.”

“She’s three, perhaps a speech disorder?”

“No, she speaks fine, just three different languages at once—Italian, English and some French before you ask. She knows not to repeat my Mandarin.”

“I see. This sounds like a normal language delay. I assume you told her about me.”

“Nothing. She just made her drawing into graphs, I think it was about colors and shapes maybe? She kept pointing at her eyes and the pictures and said her eyes don’t fit.”

“… May I see a copy of these?”

Sabine went back into the living room, Marinette still in Tom’s arms. They didn’t need to be put on a meta watch list. And Sabine wasn’t going to Gotham, and until Rolland was willing to leave his bakery, Tom wasn’t willing to leave Paris.

Sabine took a picture of Marinette’s pictures and sent them to Hugo.

“Fascinating.”

Sabine waited for him to continue.

“She has a grasp of genetics already and even used a rudimentary Punnett square, and then made a color cloud for potential eye colors to see if her own was in the mix, granted its all very amateur but very advanced for a toddler.”

“Is that Father?”

“Is that Jilpa?”

“She’s Marinette now.” Sabine didn’t answer their questions. She didn’t want to.

“I someone else?”

“No ma colombe.”

“She will need to go by something else here, a witness protection of sorts.”

“I will have the documents ready in a few days.”

“Hi Father! Can I have my words back?”

Hugo chuckled at that. “While you’re here, we’ll figure out where they go when you need them.”

“Hide and seek?”

“Very good, you will be seeking them when they hide. It takes a lot of focus, can you do that?”

Marinette scoffed. “Crinkly paper, no leave.”

“That’s very good, you already know how to wait then.”

“Hugo?”

“She said she doesn’t leave paper as it dries, why else would it be crinkly Sabine.”

“Maman, Sabine Italian.”

“I see she is much smarter than I thought.”

Marinette pouted at that. “Too many bricks. No room.”

Hugo hummed at that. “I see, well, we’ll work on that.”

“No wind?”

“Not empty words without something real.”

Marinette grinned at that. “Father good.”

“Are you certain she hasn’t been hearing Russian?”

“…I’ll talk to Gina about that.”

* * *

Marinette pouted when she found out Papa and Maman couldn’t go with her. Gina was out of the country and Nonno never leaves his bakery for long. Maman and Papa run the patisserie not far from him because they’d never see him otherwise.

Then Father said it was because they trusted her and the people on the plane to be good and help her.

The flight attendant gave Marinette a funny look. “You have two separate names on here.”

“uh huh.”

She turned to Marinette’s parents. “Is there trouble where she’s going?”

“Its Gotham.”

“Ah.” The woman looked at Marinette then. “Ready to go?”

“Uh huh! Father’s there!”

The woman laughed a little at Marinette’s enthusiasm and stayed with her during the ride, mostly watching her color.

When the flight landed she was itching to go. but she had to be good. No powers until Father said it was safe. She did her best to stay mostly still as they got her luggage and went through customs. When one of the checkers gave her a funny look Marinette pursed her lips and asked the flight attendant why everyone made that face when she said she was French, very loudly.

The man’s face got red as people gave him what Marinette thought of as ‘meta found’ looks. That’s what you do when bad guys are found, right? Give them mean looks.

Marinette was bouncier then when she saw her Father. He was right there, waiting for her with her other name on a sign—Jilpa Smith.

She gave up on staying still and made sure to only fly in the ‘passes as a jump’ way after running most of the way like a normal kid. Then hugged him.

Father didn’t see to know what to do with that, not hugign back for a moment before slowly settling his hands on her back.

“I see you take after Tom.”

“Papa hugs happiness.”

“Ah, how you say you are happy that someone is there then?”

Marinette nodded. Father could hear her words even when they were missing. She liked this.

“Before you leave, we need to confirm with her parents.”

“Of course, Really Jilpa?”

Marinette nodded like the weird bobble-heads the man running the ‘sport restaurant’ had at the hostess podium.

Maman sighed when she saw Marinette holding Father’s hand.

“Found! Seek words?”

Strange hummed, “soon. Unpack first, okay?”

“Okay! Bye Maman, Bye Papa!”

“Bye topolina, call Maman and Papa later.”

“You will call later,” Maman said looking at Father. “Bye ma colombe, talk to you tonight.”

Strange looked around the crowded airport for a moment before lifting Marinette into his arms and holding her close in one arm, her luggage in the other with her backpack on.

“Let’s be off then.”

Marinette blinked a few times at all the sounds. A lot of it was usually ones she thought were only on TV or in movies or video games. It didn’t hurt to hear them, but it felt wrong.

“8 slices, third bottom, three Duponts,” Marinette murmured at one sound. Guns?

Strange raised an eyebrow. “Which sound was that.”

Marinette made a gun with her hand and pointed in the direction. “Three duponts.”

“And what’s a dupont?”

Marinette pointed to two building across the street from each other.

“Ah. That’s… not very reassuring.”

In the car there was a man in a green suit that made Marinette wrinkle her nose. “Meta suit.”

“I’m not a meta,” the man huffed.

“Meta suit,” Marinette repeated, wrinkling her nose as she was put in the car.

Strange raised an eyebrow. “Meta means…”

“Very not good, Papa said so.”

“… I will have words with him at a later date about that. In Gotham, meta is different, like boy and girl. Not bad.”

Marinette furrowed her brow as Father buckled her in. “TV suit man.”

“Just because someone says it, doesn’t make it true.” Father climbed in, gesturing for the man to drive.

Marinette rolled her eyes, as she knew that. She isn’t dumb. “Suit man.”

“Jilpa, anyone can wear a suit and still lie.”

“Money too?”

“Even if they’re paid, yes.”

“Oh.” Marinette frowned, trying to think of another word for the suit. “Vomit-poo suit.”

Strange smiled while the man twitched. “Why is it the first thing your daughter does is insult me—I didn’t agree to this to be insulted.”

“No paint vomitpoo suit then.”

“Its wear vomit-poo suit Jilpa,” Strange corrected.

“Wear, not paint clothes.”

“Good, you stayed in English this time.”

“Easier with one, one word set said around.” She was missing words but Father was good at filling in her blanks.

“Easier with one language spoken around you, language is the word set you were looking for.”

“Language, word set,” Marinette repeated, trying to burn the new connection into her mind on the rest of the trip.

“Bye vomit poo!”

“Smith, make your daughter stop insulting me.”

“We will speak other time, vomit poo.”

“I hate you—why did I think this would be a good idea?”

“You only recently were given custody of your son, what good ideas would you have Nygma?”

* * *

It only took a week with only one language beings consistently spoken around her for her word trouble to stop. Granted, this only worked for English, but it worked.

Marinette also discovered she is much better at stealth than she thought—Father would take her to work and the “inmates” had trouble keeping track of her.

She found out Uncle Vomit-Poo Suit had a husband in there and decided to call him Uncle Penguin Suit.

Uncle Penguin Suit stopped sending her away the fifth time she managed to get into his cell.

“You know, those air ducts are not made to carry children.”

“Toddler.”

“Or toddlers Miss Smith.”

Marinette stuck her tongue out before lifting up the book she wanted him to read with her. she likes how he reads.

“The ugly duckling, tell me, why did you bring this one, hmm?” he moved closer to her, in the angry cat ready to scratch way or the dog trying to break its leash way.

She doesn’t get why he gets mad and hostile about the story. She likes the story, that’s why she picked it. She felt like the ugly duckling—and in Gotham she can be a swan instead. She likes that.

Marinette pointed to the duckling and said “Me.”

“I—oh.” The building fury left him at that. “I, Of course.” he fixed his outfit then, nervous habit. “Here, why don’t we begin now—you selected an excellent illustration set this time.”

Marinette puffed out her chest and grinned.

“Now, are you ready to follow along?”

Marinette nodded slowly.

“There was once an ugly duckling.”

“Vomit-poo suit is ugly.”

“My husband is not ugly.”

“Suit, not uncle.”

“Oh—well… let’s not judge, shall we?”

“But ugly means,” Marinette scrunched up her nose.

“I, why yes, I suppose.”

Marinette nodded filing away the information. She learned a lot from her two uncles and their son Gavin “Puzzles” Milner. He didn’t want his father’s last name and Uncle Vomit-Poo Suit said it was for the better, like with Marinette having two names on her passport. Apparently he’s Uncle Vomit-Poo Suit’s son and the mother died recently, so he was given custody as long as he kept up his good behavior, whatever that meant.

* * *

Marinette didn’t get why everyone avoided Jerome. He didn’t feel bad, just hurt. She wondered if his scars scared people. Maybe she could try joking like Papa did? One of the big kid shows she watched said something about a face stealer. Koh? Koh the face stealer from the spirit world. She could use that—then people would see he’s okay!

“Uncle Jerome,” Marinette walked over to his table, ignoring how the adults quieted when she got close to him. “how did you defeat koh the face stealer?”

That had the red head’s attention. He seemed to catch the look in her eye and grinned. “I woke up, hunted him down and killed him for stealing my face.”

“Oh! Is that why he isn't stealing faces anymore?”

Jerome rolls with it. “Yep, can’t do that if he’s dead.”

Marinette decided not to point out that Koh the face stealer is a spirit and wasn’t alive and can’t die because of that. Nope, she’d going to ignore the logical inconsistency to help her uncle.

A man snorted in the room, getting Marinette to look over.

She glared at him for that.

The man averted his gaze.

Behind her, Jermone used one of his more twisted grins, one that spelled doom.

“He’s a headbutt.”

“Now Jill, we’ve talked about this, its butt head, as he as a head for a butt.”

“But head where is butt should be—he poos out his mouth.”

Jerome gave a long, overdramatic sigh. “No, head butt is when you smack someone really hard in their head with your head.”

“Oh.” Marinette turned back to the man who snorted. “You have a butt for a head.”

The man ignored her, but felt a shiver of fear at Jerome’s grin.

“Good job Jill, he won’t be doing anything like that again, _right_?”

The man nodded, paler all of the sudden.

Marinette beamed at Uncle Jerome. He was the fun one—she could say anything and Father said it was just his ‘bad influence’ but he was fun! How could that be bad?

Overall, she decided she liked visiting Gotham a lot. She knew she had to go home to Maman and Papa, but a part of her wanted to stay with people who didn't make her feel like she was talking to bricks. 

Before she left, Father gave her a lot of sets of stickers and called them "medical patches" to help with her powers. Something about making it easier to hide them, she didn't pay too much attention as they were pretty and she wanted them on then and there but had to use them "sparingly" because they were hard to make and made JUST for her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation time!  
> -topolina means little mouse, its italian and a term of endearment for children.
> 
> -ma colombe means my dove, its french and a term of endearment for girls and women.
> 
> -Zhēn shi, chineses and according to the website I used it means the following: 1. indeed 2. truly  
> 3\. (coll.) (used to express disapproval, annoyance etc about something).
> 
> thanks for waiting and I hope this meets everyone's expectations.


	2. New Friends and Baby's First Gotham Attack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette getting further adjusted to Gotham, showing off her own skills and abilities while making a new friend or a few, and missing a few things while still being way too smart for her own good and somehow coming out unscathed as she is stealthy, while everyone else is not. According to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning, anyone that know's Harley Quinn's story line, it is very vaguely alluded to here. And i mean that as in, Marinette just knows her Auntie Quinn doesn't like Not-Uncle-Jerome and he keeps looking for her. And that when this happens, she's left alone until someone else from their group finds her or she finds someone else in the friendly part of the rogue's gallery.

Marinette was four years old when she visited again. This time Nonna was going somewhere in the Americas so she went on the same plane as Marinette. She said something about doing an old friend a favor, and that Marinette didn’t have to worry about it.

“Mia fatina, now where is…”

Marinette bolted from Nonna’s side when she spotted her Father, hugging his leg. “Found you!”

Strange patted her head once and rubbed her back until she was ready to let go.

“Good to see you again Gina.”

“Smith,” Nonna was far too stiff. Did she not like Father? “Interrupting my time with mia fatina I see.”

Strange sighed. “I do only have the summers her mother allows.”

Marinette wrapped around Father tighter then. She wanted more time with him. Why couldn’t he just come to Paris and live with them too? He wasn’t meta so he should be fine.

“Give Nonna a big hug and kiss goodbye.”

Marinette launched herself at Nonna, doing as asked. She loves seeing Nonna, but she is gone a lot to help friends out of “tricky situations” because they were being a “culo” or “cretino” and made a big mistake.

When she let go, Marinette grinned and reattached herself to Father while saying “Cephalopod!”

“I see, imitating the octopus or squid?”

Marinette quietly debated before saying “Like not one.”

Strange hummed, walking calmly with his daughter clinging to his leg. He decided to accept his fate—his daughter is brilliant but raised by a very affectionate and touchy family—the Dupains. There was no preventing her from acting like this with her current socialization and difficulty communicating with them.

He didn’t show any discomfort. He had gone over child psychology with Harley Quinn since his daughter left, and was determined to minimize and negative association development regarding him and their relationship. She needed someone to understand her without her putting in so much effort, fine. He would take on the role whenever offered it.

When he got to the car, Harley was there to greet the girl. He knew that Ed Nygma was unlikely to help again (he still bemoaned her moniker for him) so he had drafted the very woman who wasn’t allowed to keep her own daughter the year before—giving her an old friend to raise away from Gotham and crime.

“Hey there sweetie, what’s your name?”

“Jill Smith.”

“Jill huh? Can I call you Jilly bean?”

Marinette grinned, nodding eagerly. Nicknames mean someone you want to be close with. She wanted to be close with Father’s friends—even if they do wear ugly suits. And this one was in colorful pretty things!

“Your name!” Marinette wanted to know what to call her.

“She’s your Aunt Quinn,” Father answered easily.

The woman nodded, smiling as Marinette’s eyes lit up.

A few moments later Harley Quinn would listen to Marinette slide through three languages without noticing while clearly asking her questions about anything that popped into her mind (How do you know Father? Are you a scientist like Uncle Vomit Poo Suit or more like Uncle Penguin Suit? Oh—do you know gymnastics? Maman lets me go to the gymnastics place with a big foam pit to play in, but she won’t let me do the no-ground things because its dangerous even though I can catch myself since I’m not a toddler anymore).

Harley told her she met her Father at work, she’s a psychologist which means she helps people work out problems their brain makes and relationship troubles. She isn’t a gymnast anymore but she was once, and yes, air things are fun—she’ll help her find a place to practice and do stretches with her when she watches her, okay?

Strange slowly realized that Harley Quinn might take over a large portion of his daughter’s care when he was unavailable.

He didn’t see any major issues with this, so long as she did stay away from Jeremiah Valeska. Ivy was helping her with that, but apparently Batman gave her a daughter a few days ago---he wasn’t clear on the details.

* * *

Marinette groaned when she saw that Uncle Penguin Suit was trying to get in after visiting hours again. He was bad at it, really bad. And Uncle Vomit Poo Suit said he didn’t want anyone talking to him today. Apparently Uncle Penguin Suit wanted to act her age instead.

“this is ridiculous, he’s my, my uh…”

“Husband.” He acts like Maman and Papa around Uncle Vomit Poo Suit anyway, so they must be married or something like that. She didn’t get why that would make Uncle Penguin Suit get all red and mess with his clothes though. “I know, but he said no people today, so no. And its after hours so you have to go.”

“If its after hours, why are you still here, hmm?”

“Father’s shift isn’t over.”

Uncle Penguin Suit opened his mouth to say something. Marinette turned to where she could hear someone coming from and pushed Uncle Penguin Suit into a closet.

“Jill, have you seen anyone here?”

“You.”

The man shook his head. “Besides me.”

“Uncle Jerome and Uncle Vomit Poo Suit.”

The man snorted. “Still can’t believe they let you call them that. No one else?”

“Father and other people who work here or live here.”

“Ah, alright. See you then, and remember, no visitors for either Vomit Poo Suit or Jerome, got it?”

Marinette sighed. “Yes sir.”

“Good, now, I’m going to get back to work. If you see someone, scream fire really loud. That’s how we know its you.”

“Okay.”

When the man was gone-gone Marinette opened the closet and tugged Uncle Penguin suit around, avoiding the cameras and other people—sometimes throwing him into a closet. Not often, but enough of the time.

She scowled as they got out of the building and made it past the gates. “You’re really bad at stealth.”

“I beg your pardon!”

“Not pardoned. Bad at stealth. Take a class.”

Uncle Penguin Suit was staring at her. He was very red but not mad-red. The embarrassed red. He didn’t like not being good at stealth.

“Practice makes perfect, so practice with someone good at it and get good,” Marinette made sure to say in just English. She paused after a moment. “Rooftop practice now.”

“What!”

“Practice now, rooftops. I teach you do.”

“Jillian Annabeth Schmidt.”

“Not my name,” Marinette said as she pushed him up the fire escape ladder and stairs.

“I—you can’t be serious.”

“Not play, life or death. Don’t want death, so practice.”

Uncle Penguin Suit watched her for a moment while he straightened himself out. “Well, if it pleases you, seeing as I have the time, I don’t see why not.”

Marinette smiled at him then. “Practice now!” and ran much slower than usual, showing him how to step quietly and use the things on the roof tops to land in the no-hurt way—rolling in that direction as you land, and if falling using your hand to lessen impact around face if falling forwards (first contact on the ground from hands at face level and letting arms bend with gravity to minimize fall speed without fighting the moving things want to move while sitting things want to sit rule) and using your butt to shorten the fall and slow fall speed for backwards. Also keeping you head from the ground is a big thing Uncle Penguin Suit, yes that means don’t move with it when falling or landing—keep it off the ground mister!

They stopped at his business for a bit. He made her drink two juice boxes and an apple before she left as “you need to eat a lot at your age” and her stomach may have growled.

When she left his place she looked around, replaying the way they took to get there. She grinned before running on the rooftops to get there—it wasn’t dark out yet so no Batman to worry about.

She was catching her breathe on one of the buildings when a familiar bald man that felt a bit off walked up to her.

“So you’re the littlest surviving Falcone,” The man leaned down to get a better look at her.

Marinette didn’t know any Falcone. She tried to sort the words out in her head to tell him she isn’t.

“Your Nonna on your Papa’s side claimed you, at the airport, remember?”

She did. There were a lot of people. His steps are quiet too, heard to hear. And it wasn’t impossible—Maman’s friend took her husband’s name. Nonna might have done the same, and she is Italian. She does know that her Nonna’s family there were too much, and that she and Nonno fought a bunch of stronzos before running away. It wasn’t impossible.

“That’s ‘cause she’s my Nonna and I’m her fatina.”

The man nodded, offering Marinette his hand. She was feeling sleepy—she missed her nap helping Uncle Penguin Suit. The man lifted her up, “you go by Jill here, right?”

Marinette nodded, “mhm.”

“And you seem to be friends with a lot of people here.”

“That’s because Father works at a clin-ick,” Marinette still had trouble with that word, she did the k too hard. “clin-ik.” She’d work on it later.

The man nodded, carrying her to Arkham.

“I’m guessing you were helping one of your friends get home?”

Marinette bopped her head along. “He had to see his husband but his husband doesn’t want to see people today, so he had to go back but he’s no good at stealth.”

The man hummed, kneeling down to let her stand now. “I think its time I teach you a few things about handling the bad people in Arkham.”

Marinette still didn’t get the bad thing. Most of them were nice to her or helped her there. Except… “Like the hat guy?”

The man waited for her to continue.

“I don’t like him.” She shuffled away a bit. “Uncle Jerome was put in his room with no visitors when he stabbed hat guy for not listening when I told him to go away. He kept calling me the wrong name. I’m not Alice.”

The bald man was silent for a bit. She wasn’t sure if that expression was anger or thinking. Maybe both. “Well, an easy way to get people to listen is to show them that while you can take them down, you're choosing not to. Sometimes when someone is causing a lot of problems, I pay them a visit when they aren't there, make myself something and if someone ruins the surprise, I put them to sleep. When they come home they know what I can do, and that what I don't do is by choice.”

Marinette nodded thoughtfully. “A conditional mean promise with proof.”

The familiar bald man grinned at her, offering to carry her again with a simple gesture. “Very good.”

Marinette felt tired again, so she agreed and leaned on him again.

“Arkham or his clinic?”

“What time is it?” It was still light out, but its summer. It could be later than she thought… oops.

“Past your bedtime I think.”

And Oh. She knew who the bald man was. She hummed while she thought of the words in English—Father said humans do better with looping music for memory tricks.

“Arkham please Uncle Victor.”

Uncle Victor paused. “You know my name?”

Marinette nodded. He was from the flyer the officers were standing by of wanted people. One of the officers she saw last summer doing what the mean officer that hates Uncle Penguin Suit and Father.

“On the list from the officer that hates Father.”

“…are you going to tell the officer you saw me?”

Marinette tilted her head to the side. Why would she? The officer was mean and hated her Father who was good to her and helped her find words so people didn’t think she’s dumb. Why would she help someone that hates her family?

“He didn’t ask me to, so why should I?” Anyone that hated her family was her enemy by default.

Uncle Victor smiled at that. “Good. He’s a mean officer that doesn't get that people like me keep the city from falling in on itself.”

“You hurt people that hurt the… the wall people.” Walls hold up things and limit options. They give balls a thing to bounce off of too. Wall people keep things the way the people that make the rules want it to be like. Marinette didn’t like them—they made people like her (meta) illegal.

“Wall people, that's a new one.” 

Marinette nodded, remembering her last conversation about this wall people thing and trying to find the right words to say what she knows.

“Father says people see walls or doors. Walls are stops and doors are maybes and possibilities. Wall people make the stops and keeps the door people like daddy from hurting people when they don't remember better.” Marinette frowned for a moment. “I think I’m a door person like Father but Maman wants me to be wall person since door people are dangerous…You’re a wall fixer." Marinette lifted her head. "Can I be one too? They're not forgetful and they take away bad walls. I want to be like that.”

Marinette wanted to stop the bad wall people, the ones that took kids away and put them behind the big block walls in the “meta correction facilities” that always overflowed with empty. She wanted desperately to destroy those placed and that too much empty that infected them.

Uncle Victor grinned. “I like you. Maybe I’ll keep you.”

“Maman’ll come back then.” Marinette shuffled closer to Uncle Victor then, like she was settling in for a nap. She wasn’t, but it was more comfortable being carried that way. “She doesn't like Gotham, says it has too much bad in it.”

“Your mom sounds very smart.”

“She is.” Marinette knew her Maman was very smart, she always tried to get what Marinette was saying. Lately she didn’t like her pictures—“rudimentary graphs and charts” according to Father. Maman seemed to want her to be more like her and Papa, even trying to get her to bake more and not use the “technical terms” when baking and cooking since “science isn’t the important part, the art is.” Marinette thinks Maman is trying to make her give up her real first language, science. “She’s a too many walls person though.”

“Oh?”

“She wants me to stay away from science-y things and says I'm not ah, ah loud?” She frowned at the word. “Allowed.” She nodded, glad she found her word. “To help people with brain things or make machines and stuff.” Even though those were the best things to do—something about being far too young and needing to act like a kid. She doesn’t get it though—she is a kid so she is acting like a kid. What else should Marinette act like, someone else?

Uncle Victor paused as he carried her. “That’s not fair.”

Marinette shrugged against him “Maman said death’s job is to be fair; life’s is to test you. Tests don't have to be fair or easy. That’s why she left Gotham I think. But I like tests so its okay.”

Marinette liked science and things like it. It made sense to her. Father said it was her real first language, and that she was using it to find ways to speak ‘right’ to other people that aren’t science people. She’s getting better at speaking not-just-science, and Maman wants that to replace her science language. But she doesn’t want to, even if it makes Maman happy.

Marinette doesn’t want to stop having a language she thinks in. She sees the world differently—Father said it’s because she’s a meta with a sensory and strength issue.

Sometimes when she sees her eyes start getting dark blue (a new development. It meant she could fly---er, float. Flying is bird wings, bats glide and she floats) and knew she needed to take two stickers and give it five minutes before her eyes would start looking like her normal ink again.

She doesn’t notice when she falls asleep, only that Father tucked her into her bed and he was boiling water when she got up. Hotdogs apparently.

* * *

Marinette blinked a few times when she met a bigger kid trying to take off rims. He wasn’t a teen yet, and he acted older than he should from what she saw. And was just as bad as Uncle Penguin Suit.

“Are you trying to get caught?”

The boy jumped.

“There’s a camera there, so don’t. Plus, there’s a rich guy’s car over there,” Marinette pointed with her eyes. The boy was smart enough not to turn his head. good. He’s much better at stealth than Uncle Penguin Suit already. “And its in a blind spot.”

“…you’re good at this.”

Marinette shrugged. “Safer when I think through.”

The boy nodded, doing as she suggested after walking over to her and making it look like they were going off somewhere. Then she helped him with the rims by keeping an eye out.

She didn’t know why, but she felt like he was safe. That meant family, and that meant she had to help him. Family helps family.

When the boy had what he needed, he let Marinette stay close while he took the rims away to a place he called ‘the market’ and sold them. No one questioned her following him, and he kept her close in the crowds.

When they left he looked her over. “I’m not giving you any.”

Marinette shrugged, looking at where they were.

“…who’s watching you?”

“Auntie Quinn was but she ran off so…”

The boy frowned at that. “Does she do that a lot?”

Marinette nodded a bit. Auntie Quinn was good at things like that, vanishing when Marinette wasn’t looking at her.

“I know where to go when this stuff happens anyways.” Marinette look up at the sky, frowning. “What time is it?”

The boy frowned, mouthing what she said before looking furrowing his brow. “Son las seis y algo.”

Marinette slowly parsed the words. It sounded like ‘six something’. Nodding with a smile she said, “Grazi!”

“You’re not from this part of Gotham, are you?”

Marinette shook her head. “France.”

The boy blinked at her before taking her hand. “Okay, is where you live safe for you, or do you want to stay with me?”

Marinette tilted her head to the side. “Father’s safe, I think.”

The boy frowned at that. “Does he do things that make you feel weird?”

Marinette shook her head. “Helps with the word stuff.”

The boy mouthed what she said again, opening and closing his mouth before nodding. “Okay, I don’t do cops though.”

Marinette shook her head. “Don’t like.”

“Good, they’re not good here, well, anywhere really.” The boy tugged her along, glancing over his shoulder.

Marinette didn’t need to look. “Two streets away, snail steps. Watch only.”

“They following you?”

Marinette shrugged, looking over her shoulder now. “New?”

The boy frowned. “You know how to run?”

Marinette nodded. She was very good at running.

“Good, on three, keep up with me. One, two, three!” the boy ran a head of Marinette.

Marinette picked up her speed and ran beside him.

“I, how---never mind, just keep up!”

She did, following each quick turn and twist.

“Gone.”

The boy made her run a bit more to be sure. They both stopped and breathed hard for a bit.

“Meta?”

“M’ not bad.”

“Didn’t say you were.” the boy looked around them. “We should be good here. Need me to take you back?”

Marinette pursed her lips as the thought. She wasn’t good in this city, and she could trace her way back but…

“Lounge.”

“Which one?”

“Glacier.”

The boy thought for a moment. “Iceberg lounge, that’s where you want to go?”

Marinette nodded. “Just the area. I know from there.”

“…are you sure you can handle this on your own?”

Marinette rolled her eyes with a huff. “Rooftops.”

The boy paused for a moment. “That… that tracks. Roof runner?”

Marinette nodded. “Like Uncle Victor.”

“Your uncle sounds weird.”

“He’s off.”

“Arkham off?”

Marinette shook her head and tapped her heart. “Off.”

The boy nodded, walking her to the block where the Iceberg Lounge is. “So, staying in Gotham?”

“Summer only. Maman had the rest of the year.”

The boy wrinkled his nose. “Divorce?”

Marinette shook her head. “Maman’s with Papa. Father’s new.”

The boy shrugged. “That’s fair. They safe?”

“No, Papa keeps almost burning.” Marinette lifted and flexed her hand.

“Mano,” the boy said. “or hand, your choice.”

“Hand,” Marinette flexed her hand. “Hand.”

The boy nodded. “Yeah, good. So French, Italian and English… boy am I glad I listen to abuelita Ade.”

Marinette blinked a few times at him. “Did I switch again?”

“A few times,” the boy shrugged. “Its easy to follow what you’re saying with the Italian, its kind of like Spanish and if I can keep up with abuelita Ade, I can keep up with you.”

Marinette nodded, keeping close to the boy when a few adults passed.

The boy glared at them when one of them almost stepped on her. “Jerks,” he grumbled.

Marinette nodded, glancing at the windows. “Uncle’s here.”

“Safe one?”

Marinette shrugged. “For me.”

The boy followed her gaze. “Which one?”

“Bald.”

“…Victor?”

“Yep.”

“He get you a lot?”

“When Uncle Jerome isn’t allowed out.”

The boy nodded, letting her hand go. “If they leave you again, you remember which area you found me in?”

Marinette nodded.

“Look for the block between Ember and Bell, go into the one with the missing step and busted lamp in the front. Second floor, door with the upside down 5. Me or Ma should be there. If you hear a man in there, sit outside the door. If anyone tries to grab you, scream ‘Fi-Yer’ okay?”

“Fi Yer.”

The boy nodded. “Good. That should make them run when everyone starts coming out, okay?”

Marinette nodded. “Ember Bell, missing step bad lamp, second floor, 5 like this?” Marinette drew and upside down 5 in the air.

“Yes, good.”

“And sit by door if there’s a man. if not, go in. Grabbed, “Fi Yer” right?”

The boy smiled at her. “Good, just like that. If anyone leaves you alone, go there and me or Ma’ll keep you safe.”

Marinette nodded again, looking in the window again. “Go now. Bye!”

The boy grabbed her hand just before she ran off. “If you need me, ask for Red Hoodie, okay?”

Marinette nodded.

The boy looked her over again. “If they ask for a name, tell them… Pixie Pop, okay?”

Marinette nodded again, slipping away. “Bye Hoodie!”

The boy stayed until she tugged on Uncle Victor’s pants.

“Auntie Quinn ran off?”

“Not-Uncle-Jerome.”

Uncle Victor nodded, glancing over at where Red Hoodie was. “New friend?”

Marinette nodded. “Feels safe. Family I think.”

Uncle Victor hummed, lifting her up. “Well, time to get you back to daddy before he brings back some… old friends that should stay where they are.”

Marinette looked back to where Red Hoodie was. She smiled and waved.

Red Hoodie waved back, then got lost in the crowd.

* * *

Marinette looked up at Auntie Quinn. Not-Uncle-Jerome was around, and he had bad people with him.

She looked up at Auntie Quinn. She didn’t look right. her voice was wrong, and she kept laughing.

Marinette didn’t like it.

When Auntie Quinn was told to look up (she didn’t know by who) Marinette ran off and hid. When they passed (looking for her still) she kept hiding from the laughing people and the white face paint people.

She went into the library—Father said that the bad guys never go there. they forget they exist so they’re safest during ‘bad days’ in Gotham.

She frowned when she heard the laughing people outside.

It was a thing they breathed in that made them act weird.

“The laugh gas….”

Marinette climbed a stack of books in one section, looking for medical books on Gotham attacks and bioweapons used. She did have one of the pens from before…

“Pixie!”

Someone grabbed her waist, holding her up.

“Hoodie?”

Marinette turned to see Red Hoodie sighing. “Use the ladder next time.”

“Laugh gas.”

“Joker gas, what are you doing?”

“Snake milk.”

“Pixie, I love you I need more on that one.”

Marinette felt him put her down on the ground. “Snake milk,” Marinette pointed to her canines and mimicked biting. “Makes anti-venom.”

“Uh huh.”

“Laugh gas,” Marinette tapped the pen from before on her pant loop.

“Shit. How did you—“

“Dropped when Auntie Quinn got weird.”

Red Hoodie nodded slowly. “So you want to see how to make something to get it to stop?”

Marinette nodded.

Red Hoodie ran a hand through his hair. “Okay, that’s, fuck. I don’t think you can.”

Marinette huffed. “I can make macaroons on my own, and the volcanoes. I can make it.”

Red Hood squinted. “You said words, I know what some of them mean, but I don’t think you can do chemistry like that here.”

Two older boys walked over, both staring at the pair. They looked like Red Hood’s age, maybe older.

“Crane, Freeze,” Red Hoodie said with a glare.

“Red,” Ghoul said, looking at the girl at Red Hoodie’s side. “And who are you?”

Marinette looked up to Red Hoodie.

“She’s Pixie Pop. Why are you here?”

Before Ghoul could answer Freeze knelt down and grabbed the pen on Marinette’s side.

“How did you get this?”

Marinette tried to get it back, lunging. “Hey, give that back!”

“How did she get joker gas!”

Red Hoodie shoved Freeze before Ghoul could do anything. “Goon dropped it when they got her aunt, leave her alone.”

Marinette snatched it back. “Snake milk!”

“What the fuck!”

“Shh!” Marinette made the gesture. “Library!”

“… is she not from here?”

“Why am I having French class flashbacks?”

Red Hoodie ignored them, focusing on Marinette. “Still want me to get the book?”

“Joker gas,” Marinette looked at the pen, reading the words. “Anti-venom page please.”

Red Hoodie turned to the book case, watching the other pair.

“Which shelf?”

“High!”

“Pixie…”

“Up more—there!”

Red Hoodie grabbed the book she pointed to and handed it her.

Marinette shoved it to her chest and ran off to a table.

The other two followed, watching curiously.

Marinette flipped through until she pointed to the diagram on snake milking. “See!”

Red Hoodie paused, looking over her shoulder. “So anti-joker gas?”

“Yes.”

The pair from before walked over, watching them.

“I can make it in your dad’s lab,” Freeze offered.

“Lemme call first, you know how he is.”

A minute later the pair walked over. “Yo, you want to make the thing to stop this?”

Marinette nodded.

Red Hoodie kept his hand on her shoulder, “What of it?”

“My dad said he’ll help if he has a sample—he’s teaching Frost about chemistry.”

Marinette frowned at that. “Baking’s not good for this though.”

“Industry chemistry, not kitchen,” Red Hoodie explained.

“Oh.”

“So, we going together or is she giving up the pen?”

“Mine.”

“… going together.”

“I’ll lead the way,” Ghoul gestured for them to follow.

“Stop. One street, left.”

“What in the---“

“Go with it or die,” Red Hoodie grabbed the pair and shoved them into the alley.

Marinette closed her eyes focusing on the sounds. When they passed she opened them. “Gone.”

“Shit, meta?” Ghoul asked.

“Not bad,” Marinette glared at Ghoul.

“I—how does she even—” Ghoul looked at Red Hoodie and Frost for help.

“French thing I guess, I dunno, just, don’t call her that. She hates it.”

“…weird kid,” Ghoul mumbled.

Marinette kicked Ghoul for that.

“Ow—why did she—”

“Talk shit, get hit,” Red Hoodie snorted before his face fell “—and I wasn’t supposed to say that around you. Don’t say shit, it’s a bad word that you can’t say until you’re like, eight.”

“Eight?”

“Eight.”

“Eight to say the shoosh hit?”

“…yes.”

“Eight to say the shoosh hit.”

“… can we go now?”

Marinette nodded, stopping the group once in a while whenever it didn’t sound safe.

“So, how long have you known her?”

“None of your business Freeze.”

Freeze glared at Red Hoodie.

Marinette glared back and grabbed Red Hoodie’s hand. “Mine.”

“… did she just….”

Red Hoodie didn’t react. “Sure. Now, lab first, revenge later.”

Marinette nodded, looking at Ghoul expectantly.

“… okay then, well, this way.”

After a bit they were at an old warehouse. Marinette could smell it was off—the abandoned ones smelled wet, and the active smelled different than this one.

“Dad’s in there, let me just…” Ghoul tapped the door twice.

A man with a sack on his head opened the door. Oh, is was M. Crane

“What’s a baby doing here.”

“M. Crane I’m not baby,” Marinette said in her best grown up voice.

“She knows your dad.” Frost stated

“She knows my dad.”

“…how,” Frost whisper-hissed.

Red Hoodie shrugged, still holding her hand.

“Father,” Marinette answered.

“Visits Arkham,” M. Crane explained.

“Father’s other home.”

The boys gave her a look.

She didn’t get why, Father is always there or the clinic.

“He works there, not the worst either.” M. Crane turned to Marinette once the boys stopped looking at her like she just said Father is a terrorist. “Now, does he know you’re running around.”

“Exposed.”

“I—right, inside now, all of you.”

Once the group was inside, Marinette ignored his questions and gave him the pen.

“This conversation is not over.”

“Aunt Quinn was weird.”

“…pen got her?’

Marinette nodded.

“Okay, so we’ll need to work a lot faster. Frost, with me. Ghoul, make sure those two don’t break something.”

“Snake milk?”

“Yeah, making the fix-it stuff.”

“How can you follow her?”

Marinette looked at Ghoul, deciding he was missing a brain. “Hoodie has this,” Marinette tapped her temple. “You don’t.”

Red Hoodie snorted, trying not to anger M. Crane in his lab during an attack. “Pixie, Pixie, please, I’m begging you, calm the insults down.”

Marinette tilted her head to side. “Insult?”

“Uh, mean things.”

“Truth, not mean.”

Red Hoodie tried not to smile. He wasn’t doing a good job of it.

“… is this your doing or is she just like that,” Ghoul grumbled.

Crane yelled from his lab. “Jerome likes her.”

“Uncle Jerome,” Marinette corrected him.

Ghoul stared at her, thinking for a moment. Then he got pale. “You don’t have an Uncle Victor too, do you?”

“I dropped her off with him last time.”

“…shit. Well, I’m going to put on cartoons and scream into the void if you need me.”

Red Hoodie stayed with Marinette as the show played. She didn’t get why they put on colorful horses. She changed the channel until she found a movie and settled in to watch Lilo and Stitch. Two movies later, and the antivenom was done.

“Anti-joker gas,” Red Hoodie corrected.

“Same thing.”

“Pixie no.”

“Yes.”

Red Hoodie sighed, letting her pull him along as they grabbed batched of the antidote.

“So, any idea where they are?”

Marinette opened the door and listened. “That way,” she pointed.

Red Hoodie looked at the group behind him. “Well, you heard her.”

“… how does she—“

“Remember what I said in the lab about her being the m-word.”

“Does her dad know?”

Crane looked over at Marinette with her stickers. “I don’t think so. He’d keep her if he knew.”

“Maman’ll be mad then.”

“What.”

“Her ma would kill him, now lets go.”

Marinette guided the group around, shoving them like normal and shushing them so she could focus. Red Hoodie helped her keep them quiet. She could feel people moving on the roof and yelling.

They waited until they found a small group and injected the antidote.

A cop saw them and stared.

“What in the—”

“Bad person!” Marinette pointed at the cop.

Red Hoodie looked, grabbed a few antidotes and handed them to him. “This fixes the joker thing.”

“Is that Scarecrow?”

“M. Crane you meanie butt!”

“…and a toddler.”

“I’m four!”

“…why are they so angry?”

“Because you’re a meanie butt!”

“I,” the cop turned to Red Hoodie. “Yours?”

“And she will kick if you get too close.”

Marinette glared at the cop.

“… I’m going to call this in as civilian aide…”

“Pixie, can you grab more of the anti-venom?”

“No snake milk?”

“No, we’re good on that—have you been grabbing them this whole time?”

Marinette nodded. “Collect trash to recycle.”

“… I’m going with she should be in Arkham.”

“No, Father said it was Auntie Quinn’s day again.”

“Pixie, stop talking.”

Marinette pouted, but did as asked. Gotham cops were bad and Red Hoodie was better with bad people.

“Have them make more of this, and Pixie?”

Marinette looked over at Red Hood.

“Can you give the snake milk to the cops later?”

“…bad people.”

“I know, but if they don’t get it, they’re jailing jerks.”

Marinette weighed her options. “…fine. But my bag.”

“Her bag, got it?”

“Its evidence.”

“My bag!” Marinette stomped. The ground shook.

“Okay! Your bag—don’t do that again you little—“

“Don’t say the m-word!” Ghoul, Frost and Red Hood said.

“Why does it matter if she’s a m—“

“She doesn’t like that word,” Red Hoodie hissed, taking the cop aside. “She already doesn’t like you guys, do you want her to keep the stuff to spite you?”

The cop snorted. “I’ll just find you then.”

Marinette stomped over and shoved the man away from Red Hoodie. “No. Mine!”

Red Hoodie ran a hand through his hair. “I know, yours.”

Marinette grabbed his hand and pointed to herself. “Yours too.”

“I’m going with this is your way of saying friends.”

Marinette shook her head, trying to find the right word in English. “Family now.”

Red Hood didn’t question it. “alright, family now. But try not to hurt the cops unless they’re being mean.”

“Took money from the bad man last week though.”

“How in the fuck does she know that?”

“Language!” The group snapped.

“Don’t you have a lab to give that to?”

“I can’t leave kids with the Scarecrow.”

“M. Crane!” Marinette stomped, lighter this time.

The cop stared.

“Or leave a me---m-word like her without supervision.”

“Have.” She could see much better than the others.

“I—“

“Go, shoo,” Marinette waved him off, looking at a few people in the distance. “Auntie Quinn is that way,” Marinette pointed.

“I’m going to stay with her, you guys just… don’t blow up Gotham or something.”

“You’re Welcome!” Ghoul yelled as they ran off.

Marinette snuck up on Auntie Quinn and snatched her without any trouble while the others were distracted by a walking traffic light. Red Hoodie gave her the anti-venom. A minute later Auntie Quinn sat up.

Marinette ignored her words and dragged her to the library to wait out the rest of the attack. Red Hoodie stayed with them until Uncle Victor came to get her. In the meantime, Red Hoodie grabbed a book and pointed to the words as he read them, letting Marinette follow along in his lap. Auntie Quinn groaned, but was otherwise okay as “usual Joker Gas side effects, nothing major.”

* * *

Father was not happy she was caught up in an attack. He wasn’t mad at her or Auntie Quinn though.

Uncle Vomit-Poo Suit said he was going to have “words” with M. Crane and Ghoul and Frost and someone he called Mr. Freeze.

Marinette babbled about Red Hoodie to Father, who didn’t argue her addition to the family. He reminded her to tell him where his clinic was and how to contact him, so she did. Red Hoodie and his mom were confused but happy with the offer.

She made pasta and gave them a bunch---Father let her stir it this time so she made it, not him.

Red Hoodie did ask her if he had to worry about Auntie Quinn doing something bad, but she told him she stopped that since moving in with Auntie Pam and “being double auntie” which calmed him down.

Until Auntie Pam went to visit him. Apparently she made him take a lot of food and he was having trouble cooking it. Then Auntie Quinn came over and cooked it with him.

He said Auntie Pam is scary.

Marinette isn’t sure, she just knows she’s a new mommy with a kid a little younger than Red Hoodie who says she was just born. It doesn’t make much sense to her, but Auntie Quinn’s friend, Selina, said she saw something like that happen to Auntie Pam when she was older, so she guesses it could happen to a baby version of her too. She still hasn’t met Auntie Pam—that’s next year when she isn’t ‘going stir crazy’ as a new mommy.

Uncle Jerome told her next year she starts training with him and Uncle Victor and Uncle Vomit-Poo Suit.

And apparently Uncle Vomit-Poo Suit is arguing with M. Crane and M. Fries over what to start on her with science things?

Father didn’t say a lot on that, other than it being his job and that they’re “encroaching on his own territory” and being “daughter thieves” or something like that.

She’s sad to go but happy that she gets to have more friends next time! And to be away from the hat guy and Not-Uncle-Jerome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jason is 12 here.
> 
> Ghoul and Frost are 13.
> 
> Rose is technically 1, but looks 10.
> 
> *translations not in text
> 
> Mia fatina Italian endearment for a girl meaning “my little fairy”
> 
> Culo Italian insult for ass/arse
> 
> Cretino Italian insult for idiot
> 
> Stronzos Italian for idiot


	3. Chapter 3, Family Gets Bigger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette's third summer in Gotham, complete with the drama that follows the rogues and them teaching her how to survive with mostly healthy lessons... mostly. And the infamous Arkham Prison Break happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEADS UP there is a scene where it is implied the Mad Hatter tries to take Marinette. She is not physically harmed, nor does he get to touch her, but it is there and a potential trigger for some.

Marinette was so excited to return this summer. She was now five—after summer she’d get to go to school and show the other kids the cool things her uncles and aunties taught her! Her gymnastics teacher was so happy Marinette could do the balance beam without tipping over and even walk on her hands after last summer! She worked on cartwheels and still wasn’t allowed to do the bars or even think about trapeze and all at the place… BUT that was in Paris with Maman and Papa and Nonno and sometimes Nonna.

This time she’s in Gotham and that means she’s Jillian Smith on paper, Pixie Pop with Red Hoodie and Jilpa when its her and Father. She’s so, so excited!

The plane ride was boring. The flight attendant helping her said they knew her Nonna and would make sure she landed and was safe. She didn’t get why people kept acting like that when they said they knew Nonna, or why the woman looked at Marinette a little like she was going to cry when she asked about the lady having a family like Papa with parents or one like Father with his friends being his or more like Nonna with married and kid family and a lot of friends that are acting culo and cretino and need help.

The lady brought her to Father though, and then she was stuck to his leg again.

He patted her head and let her hold his hand as they walked because she’s a big girl going to school soon so she needs to practice how to walk in crowds and stuff.

She grinned when she saw Uncle Vomit Poo Suit but remembered Maman’s talk about not saying exactly what she thinks all the time since people are made of wet paper.

“Hi Uncle Bad Suit!” it was a much nicer thing to say.

Uncle Vomit-Poo Suit sighed before smiling. “Hello Jill, I see you changed your hair this time.”

Marinette couldn’t help but show it off. She got her hair cut short like Maman before coming this time.

“Uh huh! Like Maman.”

“I see, well, are you ready to settle in?”

Marinette nodded excitedly and ran into the car. Father never let her help with the luggage. “Are you changing your suit yet? Its really bad. The green you’re using is bad for your skin.”

She missed him twitching. “I see you’ve gotten better at English. You sound just like us here now.”

Marinette hummed at that. “I practiced real hard with Nonna when she was home. Maman doesn’t like speaking in English for long. Said it makes her feel bad, like when I try to tell her about how cool Gotham is and stuff.”

She missed the way Uncle Poo Suit looked at her Father. She was too busy fixing her bangs.

“Do you think it’ll take long to grow back?”

“Depends Jill, how fast does it grow?”

“Maman made me get it cut this short so it’d be only a cut or two this year instead of six.”

“Ah, well, that means not too long then, but probably most of the summer.”

Marinette took to rambling about the buildings they passed and asking why everything looked “like one of the horror movies Maman says I’m too little to watch” and giggling at the various gargoyles she spotted, demanding to know their non-existent names until she decided to give them names herself.

She unpacked without a problem on her own, used to it now. Uncle Vomit Poo Suit promised to show her different greens to pick from for his suits in the future “if you stop calling me that and call me Uncle Q or Uncle Ed.”

Marinette tried to ask why she had two uncles in one, but Father shook his head before she got the words out. She agreed to Uncle Vomit Poo Suit’s terms and let him leave before Father put her to sleep, telling her Auntie Quinn would be over when she got up.

* * *

Auntie Quinn and her made pancakes with extra syrup, because “we’re American now” even though Marinette wanted to make crepes. Something about them being hard to make? She wasn’t paying attention because Auntie Quinn gave her a berry bowl from Auntie Pam and Rose. She really likes strawberry and somehow Auntie Pam’s are always way better than the ones from the store and smell like Andre’s father’s candy store.

The strawberries were gone before Auntie Quinn gave her her stack of super syrupy pancakes.

“Well, at least we know you have a favorite now.”

“Best berry!”

“Bzzt” Harley made an ‘x’ with her arms. “The best berries are blueberries.”

“No, they don’t go aw well with chocolate.”

“But they are perfect for scones.”

Marinette wrinkled her nose at that. “who has blueberries in rolls?”

“I—the British are corrupting you and you’re French! Quick, eat up and I’ll take you to my favorite bakery, there you’ll have a scone.”

“Can Red Hoodie come too?”

“Sure, we’ll grab him and his Ma on the way, now, give me a few to get all dolled up after you finish eatin.”

“Okay!”

Marinette cleaned the dishes like she did at home, using the step stool Father left her to reach up and clean up the plates in hot soapy water to make the sugar dissolve so it wasn’t sticky and didn’t mess up the sponge. When she was done she went into the bathroom to brush her teeth before changing, only to see Auntie Quinn painting stuff on her face and not looking like herself anymore.

“Why are you doing that?”

“So they don’t recognize me,” Auntie Quinn said without much thought, working on her cheeks.

“Why?”

“A bad man keeps trying to find me, and I don’t want him to.”

“Fake-Uncle-Jerome?”

“Fake-Uncle-Jerome.”

Marinette made a face she isn’t supposed to and used the big word Maman banned her from say until she was at least ten (don’t like is also banned until she’s eight). “I hate him.”

Auntie Quinn smiled at her, ruffling her hair. “I know Jilly bean, that’s why we’re doing this.”

Marinette nodded her head, watching Auntie Quinn make herself look like someone else completely.

“Can you teach me to do that?”

“Now why would you want to?”

Marinette thought about the hat man that made her feel bad. “It’s a tool and there are bad people.”

Auntie Quinn frowned at that, considering. “Another time, for now, clean up and then we’re getting Red, okay?”

“Okay!”

Marinette washed up, got dressed and put on a light green tank, dark shorts and a pair of sneakers before taking Auntie Quinn’s hand on the way to Red Hoodie’s.

Red Hoodie and his Ma were confused, and it was Marinette’s first time meeting his Ma.

“Catherine, good to see you again, today we’re teaching bean why blueberries are amazing so I figured you and Red should come with.”

The woman blinked, a bit shaky in Marinette’s opinon. She looked the patients that needed meds.

Marinette looked around for what should be the woman’s medication while looking around for Red. She found it in the bathroom cabinet and read the words. She remembered Father explaining that he gives out a lot of medication to recovering ‘addict’—“people who try to manage what they can’t stand by making it so they can’t focus on it by using something else. That something else is sometimes a very bad thing and becomes all that person wants to do.”—and going over different meds that block the… the shape holes that when they’re filled, tell the brain that the person needs to do the thing that makes the thing they don’t want go away. This is one of those meds, she thinks. The shape and color and size are right for what Father prescribes so…

Marinette walked out with it and went over to the sink, going to get a glass of water while Red Hoodie got up from his room.

“Ma, did you take yer---Pixie!”

Marinette pouted as she was grabbed again—she _just_ got on the counter.

“What are you—how did you get Ma’s meds?”

Marinette huffed. “She didn’t take them, the shakes are back.”

“Yeah, I know, just. Stay.”

Marinette pouted, waiting for Red to grab the water and give it to his Ma with a pill while Marinette did nothing.

“Quinn, how did you—“

“We are teaching Marinette what blueberries are amazing at, and the British are beating us right now. she thinks scones are biscuits.”

“Biscuits are macaroons!”

“Pixie…” Red Hoodie shook his head, looking like Maman did she when she caught her trying to make a star chat and comparing it to one of the references for the cakes… again

“What? They are, that’s what Nonna said.”

“Yer nonna learned from Brits, but you an’ yer Ma ain’t.”

Marinette huffed as her brother shook his head again. She was doing what everyone told her to and she was still doing bad. (That meant she’s bad and she can’t be bad. If she’s bad the empty place gets her).

“But,” she had to explain. She didn’t do wrong. Right?

“No buts, we’re fixin’ this mess. Gimme a minute to get ready, okay?”

Marinette nodded with a huff, waiting with Red Hoodie’s Ma, who’s hands still shook a bit and ran a hand over Marinette’s head. Marinette thinks she’s petting her, but isn’t sure, and it feels nice either way.

“Ready Red?” Auntie Quinn asked while looking at Marinette.

Marinette felt her cheeks get hot and red because oops. She didn’t notice when she moved into Red Hoodie’s Ma’s lap.

His Ma laughed a little broken at that. A little like Auntie Quinn when someone said something that gave her a not-looking-at-now look, but not. She didn’t know how to categorize it. She’d ask Father that night.

“Ready,” Red Hoodie grabbed Marinette’s hand and his Ma’s. “You good goin’ Ma?”

His Ma smiled, a bit strained but nodded. “I gotta get outta here a’ some point.”

Marinette had a feeling this was a good day for her getting the bad out, and that the day before wasn’t. “Eggshell okay?”

His Ma opened her mouth, and closed it. She blinked a bit like an owl before nodding.

“Okay, then hold hands.” Marinette grabbed the woman’s other hand, looking at Auntie Quinn. “You too.”

His Ma looked at her curiously, and then at Auntie Quinn.

Auntie Quinn snort-laughed, a real laugh this time. She liked those best. “Okay bean, but you only have two hands.”

Marinette frowned. She forgot about that. “You can hold Red Hoodie’s hand.”

“Hm, How about I keep an eye on all of you and you or Red can grab my jacket where its busy?”

She looked at Red. She knew he was keeping his Ma good, and that the didn’t like her on the side. But he didn’t want his Ma on the side either. And they both knew Auntie Quinn liked to slip away if Fake-Uncle-Jerome was around.

“Act-septable.”

“Ack not act, not act bean,” Red Hoodie correct.

“Ak-septable?”

“More or less, just a bit faster.” He locked the door behind him as they left. “We can practice on the way.”

Marinette nodded, watching the people on the street. She did her best to look for wide brim hat, green hair and paper white skin in the crowd, ready to move the group somewhere else. She had a feeling Red was looking for different people to move them away from.

Only one person tried to talk to them that made Red’s Ma get tense.

Marinette glared at them when they moved to try to talk, and remembered what Jerome mentioned once about being what scares people to make them run. She growled a little.

The crowd did move away from her and the man ran in other direction.

Red laughed. Auntie Quinn was confused. Red’s Ma squeezed her hand and she thinks she was trying to say thank you, but was shaking a lot and couldn’t get words out.

It was okay. Marinette squeezed back and smiled at her before asking her about what she thinks the best berry is—because Auntie Quinn said its blueberries and she thinks its strawberries.

Red’s Ma was team strawberries.

Red said he had to agree with both of them (team strawberry wins!) but Harley said its because “you don’t know _good_ blueberries used _right._ So we’re fixin that at the best bakery.”

Somehow this devolved into a ‘which bakery is the best’ debate. Red Hoodie thinks it the Italian one on 8th, while his Ma is all for the German on Wayne Avenue, Marinette doesn’t know them so she can’t judge (and she lives in one so she’s extra biased) while Auntie Harley swears by the Irish-Italian bakery they’re going to.

There was an old fat woman at the counter yelling into the door to the rest of the bakery to “get more soda bread and finish up the meat pies.”

Apparently it was in Italian (Marinette honestly couldn’t tell half the time at this point) because the woman jumped a bit when Marinette said “Are they trying their best or sleeping on their feet? Nonno does that sometimes and that’s when he and Papa do bad baking.”

Red Hoodie snorted and his Ma shook her head while Auntie Quinn huffed about “needing to brush up on my Italian again.”

The woman smiled at Marinette and asked her and Red Hoodie to pick out something extra for their order as “she knows what I live with. And such a small bambina, and too little meat on you too. What are you two feeding them?”

Auntie Quinn got to explain being the sitter and that Marinette was only with Father for the summer (the old lady was so upset by this until Marinette asked if she could make her something that she learned at Nonno’s bread bakery. She gets to give the lady a cheddar rye with bacon loaf). Red Hoodie says he’s eating fine now, and no ma’am, he doesn’t need a meat pie. He still has to take the meat pie as payment for Marinette’s cheddar rye and bacon loaf.

He said he wasn’t pouting but he was pouting, Marinette decided.

Auntie Quinn and Red Hoodie’s Ma argued over who was paying. Auntie Quinn beat her this time and argued on the way back while Marinette ate her blueberry scone an kept her extra big chocolate chip cookie for later. She wanted to share it with Father.

Hoodie ate his on the way back and made her eat a bite ‘punishment’ for offering to make her a bread “all on her own” and getting the woman all teary-eyed.

* * *

Marinette asked Father about what the “not looking look” meant during dessert when she split her cookie with him. He only took one bite of it.

“it usually means someone is thinking of something else. Why do you ask?”

“Auntie Quinn looks like that sometimes. And kinda like she got caught making star charts.”

“I see.” Father grabbed one of his ‘doctorate only’ books, reading something over before talking to her again. “I believe its safe to let Auntie Quinn explain that when she’s ready. People with that look have often had to face things that leave scars in their mind, heart and perhaps soul. It is very personal and it should be their choice to talk about it.”

“Oh, like when I try to tell Maman about Gotham and she stops acting like Maman?”

Father nodded. “It is important not to push people on these things. You never know where they are in healing.”

“Like not picking at scabs?”

“Yes, very good.”

Marinette beamed at that. She could wait, and she was getting very good at keeping secrets.

* * *

Marinette practically vibrated when Auntie Quinn took her to one of their secret hideouts. The warehouse felt weird but not bad weird, the bouncy kind of new that made her feel like she was floating even when she knew she wasn’t.

Auntie Quinn went over the ground rules before she came over. And then she got into her harness after making sure Marinette could pass the test. And Marinette is a good test taker. She even could hang from her knees---she practice in Paris on Papa’s arm and on the inside of her balcony rail and on jungle gyms and everywhere she could think of.

Marinette grinned when she switched ropes like Auntie Quinn told her to. Auntie Quinn was on the trapeze with her while Uncle Victor managed Marinette’s safety line.

She yelled “Hep!” before launching onto the trapeze and laughing as she landed in the net instead of going to he next one. She missed it by a mile. She’d be ready next time!

She ran off to ladder and up to the platform while Auntie Quinn laughed at her and called her a tiny squirrel.

“Mouse, not squirrel!” she was far more mousey than a squirrel-y. Squirrels forgot where they put things all the time, mice don’t.

She whooped when she got to the second trapeze and threw herself into the air. This was the ‘safe’ way she could ‘fly’ in the future. She really liked flying—even if it was directional floating. She doesn’t like not being able to, but she doesn’t want to be taken to the too empty places.

So she’ll ‘fly’ on a trapeze. Maybe she’ll be an acrobat—Maman won’t have any objection to that since it isn’t science-y and stuff.

* * *

She likes talking to Uncle Victor, but he always goes over weird things. Today it was staying safe. She knows how to. She really does. Don’t let people see her being ‘meta’, be quiet, and don’t fight back—that gets too many people’s attention and attention is bad.

But apparently the rules are different in Gotham?

She doesn’t get it.

Uncle Victor took her to punching bag and kept fixing her stance and having her practice over and over how to punch and kick. He wasn’t yelling-yelling and it wasn’t scary but it was weird and it startled her a lot because he kept asking weird questions.

“If someone grabs you, what do you do?”

“See who it is.”

“No Jill, its Gotham. What do we do in Gotham?”

“Yell fire?”

“No, we fight back.”

“But Maman said—”

“Maman isn’t here. In Gotham, you fight like hell because the guy that grabbed you is probably a bad person.”

“Like a killer?”

“Killers can be good people,” Uncle Victor sounded… offended? She wasn’t sure. “I’m talking about people worse than killers, the ones that are monsters in people skin.”

“oh… aliens?”

Uncle Victor sighed. “No, well, if invading and intending to kill us all, yes. If they aren’t, oh well, who cares.” Uncle Victor looked serious then. “I’m talking about the people that choose to hurt people just because they can.”

“Oh, bullies and jerk faces.”

“The bullies and jerkfaces that want to hurt people and break them. there’s a lot in Gotham, so you need to be on guard. If someone grabs you, especially if you don’t know them, fight. Like Hell.”

Marinette didn’t get it, but she nodded along.

* * *

Father took her to work again one day, saying that they won and the bad hat man was gone. Uncle Jerome was allowed to be with everyone else again—something about him fighting people? She didn’t know. But she did know that some of the things everyone was telling her didn’t make sense. And Jerome seemed like the type to make sense out of things that don’t make sense, or at least things that don’t make sense to her. She’d go to Father but he was busy and it felt like it was something so obvious for people from Gotham, that outsider were stupid for not knowing. She didn’t want Father to think she’s stupid, but Jerome didn’t think anything she said was stupid. And Jerome wasn’t always from Gotham—he grew up in a traveling circus with people that hurt him a lot. He’d be better for this sort of thing.

“Uncle Jerome, how do you know which rules to follow.”

“You don’t need to know which to follow, but,” he looked around then, voice super quiet, “when to break them, you do.” He grinned at her then.

She nodded because that made much more sense to her. It wasn’t when to follow rules, but when to break them she needed to know. She knew how to follow rules, that was easy. It was when they changed that confused her.

“You see, a lot of people think that they can’t do anything wrong, that the rules are in their favor. You already know better than that.”

Marinette did. Her being alive broke a lot of rules in France.

“Those same rules and laws can be made to hurt people like me,” abused, she knew that was the word he was looking for. “and you.” She things he means meta.

“Say you shouldn’t fight back when someone grabs you, that when someone tries to break you, you endure it and don’t dare say anything about it or else its all your fault.”

That… sounded a lot like what Maman and the reporters said about her and metas. She didn’t like them. but they had to be right, right?

“They’re wrong, got it?”

Marinette blinked slowly, processing the words he just said. It didn’t make sense and it did and she didn’t know how to make those feelings stop fighting each other.

“But… how are they wrong?”

Jerome rolled his neck, “Ah, you see,” he leaned forward. “That’s the hard thing. They tell you you’re wrong, that its normal and that ‘normal is good’” he made a face while mimicking someone else’s voice.

He moved back into himself. “Normal does not mean good. You aren’t wrong for fighting back when someone hurts you, ever. And they’re the wrong ones when they say they didn’t hurt you or that you’re over-reacting.”

She didn’t ask about that… this was something personal to him now, wasn’t it? Someone said they didn’t hurt him when they did. She knew he was just a lot as a kid from his file... but not what happened since she skimmed it and the word ‘abuse’ showed up lot.

“If they confuse you with what happened or it makes you feel bad, call me or one of us here, got it? We won’t let you fall for what that bas—that monster with my face did to me, or Harley, or any of the other monsters that said to suck it up.”

Marinette nodded. She didn’t know what just happened, but that it was very, very important to get Jerome if she didn’t know how to feel about something that made her feel bad. He wouldn’t let her get extra hurt like him.

* * *

She was wandering the halls because Arkham is her third home. The regular patients know her face and talk to her a lot. She likes most of them, and she’s worried about the guy they keep calling “Calendar” because he doesn’t like holidays and she doesn’t get why. Maybe he needs to talk to Auntie Quinn.

She moved to where his room was, only to run into Hat Man. She doesn’t like him. he makes her feel weird when he looks at her. It makes her feel dirty and she doesn’t know why.

“Ah, I see my Alice has returned.”

“I’m not Alice.” She didn’t trust him enough to tell him her name. She didn’t want him finding her.

“No, no, you are, you just changed you hair, oh, my Alice has come back to me at last.”

“I’m not Alice!” Marinette yelled this time. Her heart was pounding and she didn’t get why, it didn’t make sense. She wasn’t running, so why?

“Now come here Alice.” He tried to grab her.

Marinette bolted, dodging his hand and screamed. “FIRE!”

No one was coming. It wasn’t working. And Hat Man was coming for her. She didn’t like him. He felt wrong. So, so wrong and swirly in the vomit-y way.

“UNCLE JEROME!”

It was a blur. The next thing she remembered clearly was green. Uncle Vomit-Poo Suit had her. She clung to him.

There was hitting sounds. And Uncle Jerome’s voice. She didn’t know how she knew but she did.

When she tried to see if he was okay Uncle Penguin Suit blocked her view.

“Breathe, that’s it, just like me, in and out, in and out.”

Marinette could still feel her heart hitting her ribs like a ball on a wall.

“We,” he pointed to himself and Uncle Vomit-Poo Suit, “are going to take you to your Father, okay?”

Marinette nodded against him. She dug her fingers into the suit jacket.

“C’mon, lets get out of here, Jerome will take care of this.”

Marinette nodded, not looking back. Uncle Penguin Suit stayed close anyways.

Marinette heard footsteps but they felt far away. She could hear yelling and fighting over who should be doing what.

She didn’t think when she clung to Uncle Vomit Poo Suit and started crying.

“You’ve upset her quite enough!” Uncle Penguin Suit snapped at the new people. “We are taking her to her Father, now, any questions?”

There were voices but she whimpered. The voices stopped.

“I want Father and Uncle Jerome…”

“Well take you to your Father, don’t you worry. Jerome is another matter,” Uncle Penguin Suit trailed off. “Perhaps he can call your friend, Miss Quinn. Would that be acceptable instead?”

Marinette nodded, keeping her eyes on Uncle Penguin Suit.

“Hat man can’t come, right?”

Uncle Vomit Poo suit ran a hand up and down her back as he walked her to Father. “No, he can’t. If he tries we’re right here.”

“And we won’t let him anywhere near you, my dear,” Uncle Penguin suit soothed. “He will never get near you again.”

Marinette nodded slowly, still curling in on herself.

Uncle Vomit Poo Suit took her home with Father and was staying with them. His son, Puzzles, came with him.

Some of the attendants didn’t like it, but one of the other people working there said he was “sane enough for Gotham” and that as long as he stayed at Father’s he would have Puzzles back for the time being.

* * *

Father stayed with her at home for a few days. He was making calls. They wanted her to come in but she wouldn’t go anywhere Hat Man was. She answered questions over the phone about what happened when Auntie Quinn was there too, rubbing her back and letting her cry.

Auntie Quinn began lessons on Consent and Boundaries and Boundary Enforcement. It helped her feel less dirty.

Hat man was in the wrong. She can have boundaries and hers weren’t even big ones or weird ones and he broke them. She enforced hers by running and yelling for help.

She knew why Uncle Victor told her to fight like hell. She doesn’t want to fight though—she wants it to be over.

Uncle Jerome is on adult time-out for helping her.

Father is fighting them on it.

Puzzles and Uncle Vomit Poo Suit were helping her stay busy. She even made the old lady from Auntie Quinn’s favorite bakery her cheddar rye and bacon loaf.

Puzzles and her played video games and made forts to help her feel better.

She noticed Uncle Vomit Poo Suit had two people in him and stopped calling them both Uncle Vomit Poo Suit. The one Puzzles called dad was Uncle Ed, and the one that makes mazes with them and tells riddles with them is Uncle Riddler in private, but Uncle Reed in public.

* * *

Father was out at work when M. Fries came over to check up on her. He was nice and said he heard she was taking science classes now and asked if she wanted to go over body parts.

She did, she really, really did.

He smiled and asked if she was okay with dissecting a dead lab rat he had in a cooler.

She was very, very curious then.

Uncle Ed was there today, and said “as the forensics scientist, this is my lesson, not yours freezer boy.”

Puzzles said he didn’t want to watch so he’d be in the living room watching TV.

Uncle Ed got the counter set up with little plates and Marinette got the marker and tape while M. Fries set up the dissection.

Marinette watched the careful cuts Uncle Ed made and listened attentively when different parts were pointed out, removed by M. Fries and put on the labelled plates. M. Fries pointed to where they would be on the human body on himself and she mirrored it on herself.

Marinette was having fun.

“So the heart is the engine and the brain is the order giver but the nervous system is the internet connection, and the kidney is a maid while the stomach is the fuel tank and the intestines take the fuel and send it where it needs to go and get rid of the extra guck?”

“Very good, now, the lungs are very important because it takes the part of the air the body needs for the blood stream, and the blood stream keeps the extra small things called cells that make up your body going. Without that, you can’t breathe.”

“And not breathing is death. Is that why Puzzles takes the puff thing for his asthma?”

“Yep!” Puzzles yelled from his spot on the couch in the other room. “Lungs are super important and not breathing right sucks!”

“I thought it was wheezing.”

“That too!”

Father walked in on this and glared at Uncle Ed and M. Fries. “I thought I said dissections were to be held in your lairs, not my home.”

“Well, you see…”

Marinette left the room and caught bits of Father muttering about ‘daughter stealing’ and ‘bleaching everything’ while she sat with Puzzles watching some cartoon with weird looking people in even weirder clothes.

She decided to get her drawing stuff and make their clothes better. Puzzles watched her and pointed out where she made the curves weird with a pencil.

Somehow it snowballed into stealing Uncle Ed’s phone and watching how-to-draw videos on anatomy.

At some point Father decided to send them to Auntie Quinn and her new Auntie Pam’s for the night so he could bleach the kitchen without worrying Puzzles’ asthma or how the chemicals might affect her.

* * *

Marinette didn’t know what to think of Auntie Pam. Auntie Pam was green, which meant she had to be a meta. Father said meta wasn’t bad, and that the people in power in France were just trying to fear-gas people with words to stay in power even though they shouldn’t be, and that this sort of thing was very effective. He said she should look up Nazis for more information of things like this and the word ‘propaganda’ and ‘types of genocide’ for more information with the safety search on.

Auntie Pam was weird though. She really likes plants and talks to them, said she can hear them like people and a lot things are screaming all the time. That paper was the same as a dead body for her.

Marinette didn’t get that much though… she knew a lot of people who used leather and fur and stuff as clothes and that ate meat and she knows meat comes from bodies. Maybe she’s just weird—weird can be good or bad or neither or both.

Then she got to meet her new cousin, Rose. Rose is only a year old but she’s a lot bigger, not as big as Red Hoodie or Ghoul or Frost, but still Big. Marinette is totally not jealous but she is seeing green because it’s a greenhouse Puzzles, not because she’s mad about Rose being only a year old and taller, thank you.

Rose called her something she didn’t know how to respond to though when Puzzles was off reading a book to Uncle Ed.

“We’re sisters.”

She didn’t have siblings, not that she knew of or that Father told her about. And Maman kept secrets so…

“You won’t remember because you were the first project, Chimera. That’s what I could find on your file anyway. They called me Project Nymph 4, but I didn’t like it so I go by Rose now. That’s the first thing I remember reading and I needed a name and stuff so…”

Marinette nodded along, pretending she knew what all that meant. “Okay, but who’s the ‘they’ there are a lot of theys.”

“Cadmus, they’re the extra bad people.”

Marinette felt something itch in her mind. Something her mother hissed once of twice in the phone before hanging up and that one time she broke the doorknob when Maman had a really bad day and she started yelling things in Mandarin. She remembered that her Maman said Cadmus a lot.

“Maman doesn’t like them. Or someone called Lex.”

Rose wrinkled her nose at the name. “He’s really bad too. He was on the screen and said I was a failure and that it was time for me to go away like the others before the plants did a thing and I ended up outside. Batgirl found me and asked Batman where Mom lived and I’ve been here since. How did you get out?”

Marinette frowned at that. “I don’t know. I guess I was little-little or it was before my memory recorder started working right.”

Rose nodded, twirling her tight curls. “Do you think he was right about me being a failure?”

Marinette remembered Auntie Harley’s lessons on consent and boundaries and something about trusting her instinct.

“He’s the failure, you’re awesome.”

Rose grinned. “Thanks!”

Marinette smiled big then when Puzzles came back and said something about her needing a codename like him, since Rose was clearly going by Nympth for things when they were bigger and had to help out their parents.

“She was Chimera.”

“Bzzt!” Puzzles made an ‘x’ with his arms. “it’s hard say.”

“And if the bad people gave it to me, its not good.”

Rose huffed, thinking fro a moment. “Can I go by Dryad then?”

Puzzles and her exchanged a look before nodding. On missions she’d be Dryad. Puzzles didn’t like being called anything but Puzzles when they weren’t in public, so he was always Puzzles.

Now Marinette needed her future code name…

“Acrobat?” she does like gymnastics but Gymnast sounded weird.

“Nah, Batman might try to take you on principle of the bat thing,” Puzzles dismissed

“He wouldn’t!” Batman had to be a good guy to be on the Justice League. That meant he couldn’t just take people!

“Everything that’s his has bat in it, Batgirl, batmobile, batarang.” Puzzles crossed his arms. “And do we really want to risk him taking our acrobat?”

“No!” Rose snapped, grabbing onto Marinette tight. “He doesn’t get my sister!”

“Sister?”

“Bad people called Cadmus mad Rose and did something to me I guess,” Marinette shrugged.

“I don’t know a lot about it, but there was a lot of fighting to keep you. They said you were perfect.”

Puzzles snorted. “Jill is as perfect as a fart.”

“Shut up!”

“Nope! Fart perfection!”

“I don’t think that’s a good codename. Uh, what things go with being an acrobat?”

“Well, there’s the trapeze which is the best, and the balance beam but its so boring, and the ball pit and harness and the safety net and a lot of ropes and stuff.”

“Uh. Well what about Trapeze then?” Rose asked.

Marinette didn’t hate it, and it was easy to tell apart from Dryad and Puzzles. That’s very important for code names.

Puzzles gave them an unimpressed look.

Marinette huffed at him. He’s not helping at all!

“Safety Net? I need it for trapeze things and I help uncle penguin suit with stealth things since he’s bad at them.”

“He is.” Puzzles nodded sagely. “But its long. Nets work?”

“Nets,” Rose smiled as she said it. “I like it. For all our things here, you’re nets now, and safety nets for your full name like when you forget to water the plants with the right temperature and Mom gets mad and rants for a while.”

Marinette huffed at that. “Why do I have a full name and not you two?”

“I’m Jigsaw Puzzle for that stuff.”

“Can I be Poison Dryad?”

“I don’t think names work like that.”

“But are you sure?”

Marinette wasn’t, and it bugged her.

“Uncle Ed!”

“Dad!”

“Moms!”

That argument was never settled.

* * *

Marinette went over to Red Hoodie’s since she felt off lately. It was easy to sneak out, and she elft a note saying where she was going like Maman and Papa do when they don’t tell the other they’re leaving because they’re sleeping or something.

His Ma said he was working.

Marinette knew exactly where he was then.

She grabbed him before he picked a bad target, someone that didn’t deserve it. She saw someone who did on her way over. The angry men talking to the ladies in clothes that look cold for winter stuff but they look okay for summer stuff.

They didn’t have to wait long for one of them to try to hurt one of the ladies.

Marinette pointed to his car and played lookout while Red Hoodie used the thing Uncle Victor showed her that lets you get into bad people’s cars to teach them a lesson. He had her crawl to where the wires were when he saw it was too small for him. She got it to spark.

He moved her to the passenger’s seat. While she buckled up he started driving. They both knew the man wouldn’t be happy.

Before they brought it to one of the Markets, they took off the plate with numbers and letters.

“We give this to Auntie Quinn and Pam. They’ll know what to do from there.”

Marinette nodded, following him to the Market and when someone tried to grab her she fought back like Uncle Victor told her to.

Red Hoodie snorted when she took out the bigger man by flipping him and screamed “Not saying anything doesn’t mean it okay jerk butt!”

One of the kids there stared at her before clapping. She got really red and hid behind Red Hoodie because she doesn’t like how many people are looking at her. Especially when she used her powers and that’s bad to do in front of not-safe people.

Red Hoodie sold the car quick and kept the plate with them by having her hold it while they made the deal.

The guy tried to take it from her and she kicked him. Not hard-hard, but enough he ended up on the ground saying bad words.

“Pixie, remember…”

“Don’t say what he just said until I’m eight?”

“Those words are twelve.”

“Its so far away,” Marinette groaned, following Red Hoodie out and quick to lead him to Auntie Quinn and Pam’s greenhouse.

“Auntie Quinn? We have something for you!”

The woman in question walked over, took one look at the numbers and letters before nodding along. “I’ll have Eddy look it up later. Now, how did you two get this?”

“Pixie changed my mark again.”

“The guy was bad-bad. He hit the lady.”

“Hooker,” Red Hoodie corrected.

Auntie Quinn’s eyes got dark at that. “Oh, he did, did he? Mind telling me which corner?”

“Drake and Square, didn’t hear it from me.”

“Of course. Jilly bean, Auntie Quinn is going out for a bit to check on the lady, are you staying with Red or here?”

Marinette grabbed Red Hoodie’s hand.

“Okay, and Red, I’ll fix the other problem when I finish this one, okay?”

Red Hoodied nodded. His jaw was weird when he did, like it was trying to make his mouth go away. She didn’t like that, or whatever made him look like that.

“And both of you,” Marinette looked up at her aunt. “Good job. Remember, this is street justice. And you’re both doing so well.

* * *

Marinette froze when she saw a picture of the man on the news. The news was rarely on but when it was, Marinette was usually not paying attention.

The man was dead.

It couldn’t have been Auntie Quinn, or if it was, it had to be an accident. She couldn’t let anyone know she might know. That’s make it real and real meant having to do something.

That feeling goes away when she finds Red Hoodie and talks to him about it by the bakery.

He murmurs so others don’t hear, but she does. “The sirens did their thing so the bad man can’t hurt people anymore.”

Marinette nodded slowly, trying to piece it all together. “Bad police?”

“Very bad police, and lawyers don’t do anything with things like this.”

Marinette frowned at that. It is Gotham, and she’s pretty sure everyone hates lawyers but…

“Are you sure he couldn’t get better?” that’s what the attendant at Arkham yelled when she was taken away from the bad Hat Man.

“It wasn’t his first time, and he’s done a lot worse. The sirens don’t play games with this stuff.”

“Like Batman?”

“Yeah, like Batman, only they make sure things don’t happen again, one way or another.”

Marinette hummed at that. The Sirens (she thinks that what Auntie Quinns friends call themselves) were good then. If a good person did that, then it can’t be bad.

“And remember to avoid anyone, even if its Batman, saying they know what’s best for you.”

“But Red,” Marinette whined. She didn’t know if they could take the bad part of her powers away.

“No buts.” He raised his voice then, looking at someone over her shoulder and pointing. “Especially if it’s a stranger stalking a little kid like that guy!”

The adults were looking at the man, and were angry. There was yelling and snarling. She noticed he felt off, like Uncle Victor, but it felt like a different off that made her want to hide.

Red Hoodie took her away, something about meeting the others at the Carnival.

“Everyone—even Ghoul and Frost, not so bad once they stop acting like they’re better since they go to school most of the time.”

Marinette grinned when she saw Father with Frost and Ghoul and Puzzles. Someone said something about Uncle Riddles making a return and needing to keep her and Puzzles busy for now. But that didn’t matter—there was a fluffy unicorn with Red’s name on it and a really cute mouse with hers.

* * *

Marinette was very careful to make sure her macaroons were just right. Uncle Pen—Ozzy. Uncle Ozzy likes dark chocolate so that was his batch. Uncle Ed likes apricot and Uncle Riddles likes cherry with fig filling. Uncle Jerome got two batches since she wasn’t even allowed to see him and he came first—one salted butter caramel and one black currant violet. She let Auntie Harley help her pipe it out since Papa wasn’t there.

Auntie Harley got some of Uncle Ed and Uncle Riddle’s batches.

Puzzles passed Uncle Ozzy his, and he was super happy that she made him something. He even went to Arkham with her to give Uncle Jerome his.

“Yes, I’m here with Miss Smith for Jerome.”

The receptionist gave him a mean look.

Marinette tugged at his pants.

The receptionist looked over the counter and stared at her.

She hated that look.

“Uncle Ozzy…” she was squirming. She didn’t want to run but she didn’t like that look.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize you meant _that_ Miss Smith, right this way.”

Marinette stayed closer to Uncle Ozzy then, he was safe. She wasn’t so sure about the attendents anymore…

Uncle Jerome was in the cafeteria. The room got quiet when they saw her. (No, it was Uncle Ozzy they saw and scowled at.)

“I see many of you are still here, hmm,” He was leaning forward weird then.

“Uncle Ozzy…”

“Right, my apologies my dear. You had something you wanted to do.” He said it more like a statement than a question.

Marinette nodded, still squirming under everyone’s eyes.

“Well, shall we?”

Marinette nodded, staying close to Uncle Ozzy like a shadow.

Uncle Jerome had two guards on him. They were giving him really mean looks behind his back. She didn’t like it.

She looked at Uncle Penguin. She didn’t know what to do.

He gestured to Jerome.

“Uncle Jerome?”

That had his attention. He wasn’t even looking in their direction before.

“Jill?” He was looking at her like he didn’t think he’d ever see her again. “What you doing here kiddo?”

Marinette lifted the box carefully. “I made these for you.”

That had Uncle Jerome’s full attention.

“Jerome isn’t allowed to have that.”

Marinette frowned. “You don’t even know what they are.”

“Look kid,” the guard… was that a sneer? “he’s not wroth the trouble. Why don’t you just g home, yeah?”

Something in her snarled bad. “Uncle Jerome made the bad hat man go away. Uncle Jerome listens to me. Uncle Jerome reads books with me AND doesn’t get mad if I can’t keep my words right, because it’s a game then not a bad thing. He’s good and gets macaroons as a thank you.” Marinette remembered the move the big girls in movies did, where they twist their head away real fast when they’re mad at someone and made a good point. “you don’t meanie butt.” Marinette twisted away from the guard and handed Uncle Jerome the box, to Uncle Ozzy’s amusement and laughter.

Uncle Jerome snorted, moving her into his lap and putting the box on his table. “Aw, what, Uncle Penguin Suit didn’t get any?”

“I did, thank you! they were a very wonderful dark chocolate.”

“Still on with that? Ugh,” Uncle Jerome gestured with his head, looking at Marinette with a conspiracy in his eyes. “Can you believe this guy?”

Marinette smiled a bit then, ignoring the eyes on them.

“I—why you—no, not in front of the children.”

Uncle Jerome grinned at him as he opened the box then. “Huh, what are these?”

Marinette pointed to a brown one. “That’s salted butter caramel, and that one,” she pointed to a purple one with black filling, “is black currant violet. Father said you wouldn’t like licorice so…”

Uncle Jerome grinned at her, a bit wide but it was okay. He ate a few and said a bad word.

The guards jumped.

“Where’d you learn to make these? They’re incredible!”

Marinette beamed. “Papa taught me!”

“Ah, the step-dad. Remember, if anything happens that you don’t like…”

“Call Father?”

“Exactly. Now,” Uncle Jerome gave her his manic grin. “What book are we reading today?”

“A to Z mysteries, Empty Envelope!”

“Alright, now, we have to get to the rec room first...”

* * *

Marinette was really happy she finally got to see Uncle Jerome. Father picked her up when his shift was done.

She was bouncing on her feet when he called her over.

Father looked at Jerome with a sigh. “She is my daughter.”

“Nah, too nice to be yours.”

“She’s French and a Gothamite—it will wear off soon enough.”

Marinette hummed when they went home. It was a really good day.

And Hat Man was sent to a Prison, so she was really happy. He couldn’t get out of that!

* * *

( ~~Oh dramatic irony)~~

Marinette, she had no idea how this happened, she swore, somehow got lost in Gotham during an Arkham jailbreak. All she knew was one minute she was talking to Uncle Ed and then the next there was explosions and then she was… wherever she was. She didn’t know this part of Gotham.

Then some big scary guy tried to grab her. She did what Uncle Victor said to and didn’t hold back like she always does and threw the man one way while she ran another way. She had to get somewhere safe. She didn’t know anything here though!

“Hey, are you okay?”

She looked up to see a boy a little older than her.

“Where are your parents?”

“I,” she knew you don’t say Arkham outside of Arkham. “work.”

The boy nodded. “Mine are on vacation. C’mon, its not good here. There’s a café right there,” the boy pointed. “That lets kids use their phone when this stuff happens, okay?”

Marinette nodded, sniffling a bit. She didn’t know when she started crying.

She let the boy take the lead. There was a line to get to the phone. The boy kept telling her Batman would handle things “Because he’s Batman!” so she doesn’t have to worry too much.

She thinks the boy is big fan boy and she doesn’t mind. She likes the Sirens because her aunties are part of them, but still. Things felt weird and when she checked her arm, she didn’t have any stickers on. That wasn’t good.

She doesn’t know what’s going on when the man from before comes back and she freezes. The man has guns. A lot of them on him and he said bad things and she’s so, so scared. He grabs her before the boy can hide her and she’s over the bad man’s shoulder.

She can feel everything shaking and her head hurts because its too loud and too everything and she needs to fight back but she doesn’t think the man will make it if she does and she can’t be a killer!

When she finally gets a hold of herself, screams “GO AWAY!” hits the man hard, she sees… someone? She doesn’t know enough about Gotham and metas to know who has super strength and looks normal but she isn’t sticking around to find out. She runs fast and hard to where Auntie Quinn and Pam and Rose live.

She can hear something or someone follow but she doesn’t care. These places change a lot according to Father so it just means getting the plants to move, and with everything going on, it won’t be hard for Auntie Pam and Rose to get them to move on their own.

“Jill!” Rose yelled, grabbing her when she came in crying.

“I got lost and a bad man tried to steal me!”

Rose hugged her tight. “Do you want me to kill him? J called dibs on his brother this time and Harley’s aiming for Tetch after last week.”

Marinette shakes her head, “I don't want him to die, I just want him to stop hurting people.”

Rose sighed. “Jilly bean, the world isn't nice. If it was, then Batsy wouldn't have dropped me onto an eco-terrorist when I was a week old, and I would be allowed to leave the greenhouse and see you guys. You wouldn't need to have a lot names. You can try to make it nice in a lot of ways. But I’m happy to handle the killing stuff since that's the only thing I have shot since I can’t go to school and stuff.”

Marinette frowned, not happy with what Rose said at all. “But then the world wins. I want to beat the world, not lose by being like it.” Marinette wondered if she could show Rose that there were other ways, after all, Rose is only a year old. “Can we call Ghoul and Frost? Maybe they can help with their dads?”

“And why not Puzzles?” Rose wanted all hands on deck.

“He has asthma and he cant dodge.”

Rose considers for a moment before nodding. She grabs a plant and talks into it. “Ghoul, Frost, I need you at HQ. Someone has to reign in our dumbass parents. Bring the neutralizers and tranqs.”

A voice came from another flower. “Should we have Zsasz come with?”

“No! He’ll switch sides again!” Marinette yelled.

“Oh. Nets, what the hell are you doing at HQ?”

“Two-Face stole me. I ran.”

“Well, Fuck. Be there in five. Uh, how are your treatments holding?”

Rose wasn’t paying a lot of attention, but Marinette was. she put her hands near her ears in case Ghoul started saying bad words again.

“She’s getting lighter. Might want to break out the rocks again.”

“Double” Marinette covered her ears for a second. “--force Frost out of lab. Be there in a few—any crews to avoid or…”

“If they have a green arm band don't give them the fear toxin fixes, and Jeremiah's cult is back,” Marinette added, still being ready to cover her ears. she didn’t get why there were forbidden words but she wasn’t going to make a big deal out of it when she just wanted to curl up somewhere safe. Rose was safe, even if she is younger, she’s not smaller.

She covered her ears again because Ghoul has a potty mouth when stuff like this happens.

“--ck me up why don't you Gotham!” Ghoul cursed.

“Hey, little kid!” Rose snapped, slapping her hands over Marinette’s on her ears.

Maybe she should be extra happy when she speaks? Papa did that when Maman is having a bad time.

“I'm older than you though!” Marinette chirped with a grin.

Rose huffed as she let her ears go, “yeah, but I’m not the one that kidnaping sized.”

“Are you two really going to debate that when we have work to do?” Frost’s voice came from the plant.

“No…” Marinette’s hands fell to her lap. She didn’t like causing problems whe there were things to do and people to help.

“Hey Frostbite, lighten up,” Red Hoodie said from the plant. “And I’ll be there in ten to grab you.”

“Why not just have her stay here?”

“Do you really think there wasn’t a tail on her?”

Rose and Marinette shared a look.

“Did you hear something Nets?”

Marinette frowned, trying to remember and there was shuffling sounds so… “I think so.”

Rose squeezed Marinette’s hand. “Okay then, I’ll leave a note for the moms and move to another base with Frost’s help.”

“I’m doing what now?”

“Do you want to talk to people or just guide me around Gotham?”

“Ew, people.”

“That’s what I thought. Ghoul’s better at sticking people with serums anyway.”

“Hey!”

“Its true.”

Marinette moved to help Rose a bit, prodding the larger plants. “We got caught, you need to wake up now and get moving.”

Rose didn’t talk to them, just traced weird patterns for their roots to rise up. it looked kinda scary but kinda cool to Marinette.

“They all have the same pokeout pattern.”

“Growth pattern, just how plants are.”

Marinette nodded, studying one of the strawberry bushes when Red Hood came in.

“Okay, we got a two backpacks, blue is no laugh, yellow is no fear.”

Marinette was quick to look at the new pens. These were smaller so they could fit more.

“And remember, no taking the pens with us, don’t want a mixup.”

“Or a kontaminashion,” Marinette frowned at that. “Kontamintion.”

“Close enough, let’s go.”

“Wait, shouldn’t we,” Rose gestured to Marinette and held up a stone.

Red Hoodie looked at Marinette. “Want to keep the powers for now?”

Marinette nodded, jumping a bit and leaning forward a little bit. “Faster.”

Red Hoodie smiled at her. “Alright, so bike day for me then.”

Marinette nodded, waiting for Red Hoodie to get on his bike. She frowned when she saw the bat.

“Bad people?”

“Bad people.”

Marinette nodded.

The rest of the attack she floated directionally by Red Hoodie and stabbed people with the pen they needed.

She kept them away from the cops (bad people) and the green arm bands and anyone else that looked like they were happy to hurt someone.

When the day was over she went to Red Hoodie’s and passed out. She woke up when Uncle Victor came to get her.

“Hey kiddo, heard you were great today.”

Marinette nodded, still not quite awake.

“Don’t worry, just going to ask if you remember anything about who was grabbing you.”

“Not Hat Guy.”

“Don’t worry, he’s gone-gone.”

“Promise?”

“Promise. And if he tries to come back, me and Jerome will goldfish flush him.”

Marinette knew that meant kill. She also knew Uncle Victor didn’t do that without the person being dangerous to walls and rules that were very, very important.

“Okay.”

“Anything else?”

“His face was weird, like someone put two faces together the wrong way and down the middle.”

Uncle Victor nodded.

Red Hoodie said a bad word.

“Well, c’mon, I’ll take you home. You can go back to sleep now, okay?”

Marinette nodded, passing out once more. It was a weird day.

* * *

Marinette blinked a few times when she was back in Arkham instead of at home. Father was holding her and the stuffed mouse, Souris, that Frost and Red Hoodie won her at the carnival.

“Feeling better?”

Marinette nodded, rubbing her eyes a bit.

“Home?”

“In a little bit, I just need to finish recording what happened.” Her father paused for a second. “Why don’t you go see Uncle Jerome?”

Marinette nodded, passing an exhausted Uncle Ozzy as she did.

“Is Uncle Jerome back?”

Uncle Ozzy took a minute to focus on her. “Why, yes, my dear, yes he is.”

“And Uncle Ed is home-home right?”

Uncle Ozzy looked soft then. “Yes, he’s helping your aunts finish moving. Why don’t you go see Jerome for a bit, I doubt he’d be anything but excited to see you.”

Marinette nodded, going to Uncle Jerome’s room. Maybe they could read another book.

She stopped when she got to his room. He was talking to another person that lives in Arkham that she didn’t recognize at first. Then she did.

The man that tried to grab her was in Uncle Jerome’s room.

“I’m sorry I scared you.”

Marinette looked over at Uncle Jerome, who as giving his really big grin.

“I heard about you from Jerome and your dad and didn’t want you getting hurt in all that.”

Marinette crossed her arms. “You could have said so.”

“Not a good thing to say in front of outsiders. You know how people get when you mention Arkham.”

Marinette frowned at that. Ghoul and Frost did give her weird looks last year when they first found out…

“So you just didn’t want them to look at me weird?”

The man with a weird face shook his head. “A lot of people get real mean about people that come to Arkham. Wasn’t sure how mean they’d be to you, and I didn’t want you getting hurt.”

She had a feeling he wasn’t tell the whole truth, but he was being more honest than Maman was when she tried to ask why she can’t go to Gotham more.

“Okay, I forgive you.”

“Thanks sweetheart, but that’s not all.”

Marinette pursed her lips. That could be very good or very bad.

“To make sure this doesn’t happen in the future, a bunch of us are making a big promise to help and very specific ways that we’ll help you and the other kids in the future with attacks and things like that.”

“So a really big conditional plan?”

The weird faced man twitched. She thinks that’s his smile. “Yeah, something like that. If you’re not sure what’s going on, ask to talk to the Council, okay?”

Marinette nodded slowly. She didn’t get all of what was happening, but it sounded like the weird faced man was trying to make up for what he did wrong and stop it from happening. That’s good. He’s learning and learning is always good.

“Okay.”

She likes this. Someone trying to be better.

“I’m Jill!”

The man paused, hesitant as he offered his hand. “Harvey.”

“So Uncle Harvey,” the man was startled by her words. “how do you kontaminashion right? I can’t remember and Red wasn’t helping.”

The man relaxed. “Con-tamin-ay-tion,” he said slowly.

Uncle Jerome snorted. “Its contamination Dent. A little softer on the start and ‘t’ not a shush for the end.” Jerome rolled his eyes at Uncle Harvey. “Amatuer. Even had to him he needed a plan to prove he’s really sorry.”

“Thanks Uncle Jerome!”

She missed Uncle Harvey shooting Uncle Jerome a very annoyed and very unimpressed look.

* * *

Marinette blinked when she saw the boy from the attack on the rooftop. She knew she was there because Uncle Riddles and her were going over bombs and he was letting her practice undoing the stink bombs he set up in the ‘shell base’.

The boy was frowning. And probably shouldn’t be there.

She got up and tilted her head. “What you doing here?”

“I saw Batman go that way,” he pointed in the direction of the Wayne Gardens. “And Riddler go in there.”

Marinette frowned. “Uncle Riddles is teaching me about stink bombs.”

“Oh.” The boy furrowed his brow. “He’s your uncle?”

“Father said that family is a choice so I get to choose mine. So he’s an uncle.”

“Oh, okay.” The boy turned to the side then, looking around with a furrowed brow. “…Where’s the fire escape?”

Marinette winced. He was on the Trap-the-Bat building.

“That one doesn’t have one.”

“…how am I supposed to get down then?”

Marinette frowned. “Give me ten minutes, I don’t want to be a skunk!”

One practice stink bomb defusing later, and Marinette pulled the bobby pin Auntie Quinn gave her to keep her bangs in the poof for trapeze practice. She took out her favorite paperclip and bent it into shape as she went into the Trap-the-Bat building and moved around the traps Uncle Riddles showed her. The ones he didn’t, she was small enough to slip through.

She didn’t get why he wanted to trap Batman. Maybe they had to have a talk or something. Adults are weird about stuff like that.

She opened the door to the roof and gestured for the Batman fan to come with her.

“Did you meet Batman too last time? I told him what happened. He was fighting Mr. Freeze.”

Marinette shook her head. “No, I got away. The man said sorry and that it wouldn’t happen again, something about making rules.”

“His name is Two-Face, I didn’t know he could be sorry.”

Marinette shrugged. “He said something about being worried about me since he met some of my family and didn’t want me getting hurt or something.” She moved the boy before he could set off the trap-tile. “Why did you meet Batman?”

“I figured the police were super busy with the break out and stuff, so I ran to where I thought I saw Batman go earlier. He was so cool and wasn’t freaking out at all!”

Marinette nodded. “That’s what grown ups do what they’re acting like it. I think.”

* * *

Marinette hugged her Father tight before leaving, Uncle Ed was there this time. She didn’t like leaving Gotham. She had two new friends, a sister, a brother and her ‘weird cousins’ (Ghoul and Frost) and so many Uncles and Aunties now there. And Father, obviously.

And she doesn’t have to hide everything here. Even if it did mean the Hat Man was there, and Uncle Harvey tried to kind of kidnap her, her family they took care of it. She didn’t want to leave, even though she did miss Maman and Papa and Nonno and Nonna.

At least this time she gets to go to school… maybe she’ll make a friend or two there?

Uncle Ed showed her the color swatches while they waited for the plane. 

She picked the glossy almost-black green with a vibrant green sheen to it. "No more ugly suit."

Uncle Ed shook his head. "I still can't believe he lets you call it that."

"Because it is."

Marinette got on the plane, her special stickers on already. She always hated the feeling of them being on after being off them for a week. But Father told her it'd help hide her powers, and it made Maman happy. And in Paris she has to keep Maman happy. In Gotham she just has to make herself happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR PATIENCE as this was a long ass update, and I was plotting the next update for this story AND the main story's update at the same time. not going to lie, it hurt my head a bit and they're all long updates but its working out okay.


End file.
